Scribblings

I’m torn

I look out the window and see roads I am mostly comfortable driving on. While some ice is still a problem at intersections, that’s about it.

I approached the coming of winter in Alaska as I have done every year recently. Before the snow fell, I stocked up for winter knowing there would be many days when I couldn’t get out because of ice or snow. Except the ice and snow didn’t happen except for a very brief moment early on. Now my yard looks as it usually does in early spring as the snow melts and the ugly browness of Anchorage becomes glaringly obvious as it becomes more and more visible.

This may turn out to be the first Christmas in Anchorage where the song “I’m Dreaming of a White Christmas” might turn out to be just that – a dream. Not a reality. The Iditarod is going to have to start about five miles from Nome at this point and just spend a lot of time going around in circles until the requisite number of miles has been reached. Fur Rendeyvous will seem like the State Fair in August. And we will have no place to hide Easter eggs because there will be no white cover on our lawns.

I know. I know. This will probably end and a dump of snow five foot in height will bury us in the not too distant future. But it hasn’t happened yet and it isn’t predicted for the coming weeks. So I’m not going to worry about filling my larder with enough bird and dog food to get me through a blizzard. I’m going to worry about whether I have enough fertilizer to start my outside plants in February.