The Coldest Month

This has been the most bitter February on record. Snowstorm after snowstorm after snowstorm has pummeled us. The air has been frigid. Temperatures have hovered around 15 degrees, cold enough to make the rare 30 degree day feel balmy. I raised the white flag long ago but the snow kept falling and the frigid winds kept blowing. What I would have given to have been able to fast-forward through to May.

After the last big storm that hit us--the one on the first weekend of school vacation--there was about 5 feet of snow in the backyard. 5 feet! And all in one month. Now, thanks to some sun and even a couple of days around freezing, a slow melt has reduced the snowpack by a couple of feet. We won't see the ground for a long time (and who knows when we will see dry ground), and it is hard to believe that there will come a time when green replaces white.

And look! We're supposed to get more snow tomorrow. And maybe Wednesday. Thanks for nothing, March.

We have endured February by staying locked inside--it is simply too cold to have much fun outdoors. Andres has spent hours working on his basketball skills in the living room. Bump, bump, bump, thump. Celia has been coloring a lot, and continues to work on her "All About Me" book that she started a couple months ago (she received it as a birthday gift). Lucia tries to insert herself into whatever activities the other two are doing. She is often successful. When she isn't, she takes care of one of her babies, or walks around the house in Natalia's shoes, or takes off her diaper and runs around half naked. All three kids have become master MagnaTile architects.

The snowdrifts look like mountains now.

The steps up to our porch have vanished.

Keeping busy with MagnaTiles.

The fantastic amount of snow has presented an opportunity for some interesting excavation projects. I finally had some time last Friday to create a snow cave/igloo in our front yard. Celia helped a bit, as did Andres, but they both claimed cold as a reason to go back inside after too much time. I was motivated to make something out of this miserable month and kept shoveling until my hands were almost numb. The payoff was worth it, though: I made hot chocolate for the kids, and we all had an eskimo picnic in our new snow house.

It's surprisingly roomy in there.

It is still intact eight days later. The melt has impacted its impressiveness--dirty snow makes it look more like a cave than an igloo--but it is still "inhabitable," as long as one manages to scoot underneath the icicles that have formed at its entrance. I am tempted to restore it to its previous glory if we get enough snow tomorrow.

There must be an end in sight. Right? Spring is supposed to come in 21 days. I'm convinced that we'll still have snow on the ground in early April--a fact that is complicating my schedule for shooting ultimate. My first tourney is supposed to be on March 28/29 up on the North Shore. There's approximately 0 chance that those fields will be dry and lovely at that point, but I'm hoping that it still happens. I need to get outside. I think everyone does.