RWVL Update and Winter Memories

 We are enjoying a beautifully sunny day today. The outdoor temperature is currently 25F and there is a mean west wind that makes it feel much colder. Still, it is a big improvement over yesterday's weather which was blustery and cold all day. We got a fair amount of snow (I measured 8 inches this morning) and it was blowing all day with temperatures feeling like only a few degrees above zero. I was only outside long enough to measure and shovel about three inches off the deck. Today was different, but the snow was light and easy to handle.

Even though Joe's Pond is snow-covered and cold right now, work is still going on by the Responsible Wakes for Vermont Lakes (RWVL) folks to get laws changed to eliminate the use of wake boats on ten additional Vermont lakes, including Joe's Pond. Their newsletter in the above link sums up progress.

I hope everyone is settling into our New Year well. I usually write the wrong date a few times when we start a new year, and there are end-of-the-year things I have on my to-do list; but mostly it's a pretty unremarkable switch. This year it seemed the new year came defined by more typical wintery weather - 2024 ended as rather mild and gentle, but January has brought snow and cold as if to remind us we're in a new year and this is what winter is all about! We had lots of drifting yesterday, and most of the day there were white-outs as the snow whipped off of banks and trees. I could barely see the mailbox  and West Shore Road at times.

I was reminded of winters when I was growing up on the Cabot Plain. The wind up there is ferocious. There is nothing between there and Canada to slow it down. My Grandmother Bolton used to complain that my grandfather couldn't have found a colder, windier place to settle. She was right. The road leading past the farm (part of the original Bayley-Hazen military road) came down off a hill southeast of the farm, went between the barn (pictured above) and house and down the hill to "the flat" that was a long, clear sweep to the schoolhouse. The flat routinely filled with snow, solidly packed from on bank to the other. I remember a few times when even the big old plows couldn't break through and men with shovels had to blaze a trail so the plow could finally move big chunks of packed snow to make a narrow path so a team of horses could pass through with a sled load of milk cans to meet the milk truck at some point further on the road. Most of the time the plow made it to the corner by the schoolhouse, and farmers brought their milk there on sleds.

There were always big snowdrifts in front of our houses on the Plain. on the life, that's me on a snowbank in front of the farmhouse, and several years later with my mother and two cats I don't recall having, but there were several feline friends in my life when I was growing up. My mom was probably shoveling a path through that drift in front of our house - it got fairly well packed down during the winter and most of the time we kept it shoveled kind of up and over, taking out what we could of the new snow. As long as we stayed on the beaten path and didn't step off the side, it held up well, but sometimes a misstep on one side or the other meant sinking knee-deep in snow. Some winters we gave up and did dug us a tunnel. That was really more efficient - we only had to shovel snow from the openings.

The photo of the snow on the right was when the road was changed for a few years. It had originally been where it is now, a straight shot between the house and barn down the hill to the flat. But for some reason the road crew decided to change the location and moved it east along the road that went below the barn and came out on West Shore Road near where I live now. That road was not kept open in the summer, but by moving the approach to our farm a bit east made a gentler incline, but was not great because then there was a fairly sharp corner that was not always easy to navigate in slippery conditions. I think that move was made in the 1940s, perhaps, and it was changed back maybe 10-15 years later, perhaps when that summer road which was a shortcut to W. Shore Road was thrown up.

My house guest, Thor, panics whenever I head outside. I think I have a clue about what's going on. The closet where I keep my winter jackets is noisy when I open the bi-fold door, and then I come out wearing a big green jacket, either big furry earmuffs or a white ski hat and floppy black gloves - pretty scary, right? Thor takes off and keeps his distance until I come back in and put my winter garb away. The good thing about all of this is that I don't have to worry about him diving through the door to get outside. He's never experienced the great outdoors more than tip-toeing onto my screened porch a few times, and snow and cold do not appeal to him at all. So, curious as he is, he stays safely away from scary stuff associated with outdoors. His favorite spot is high on the corner cupboard in my dining area. He gets a perfect view of TV from there! I'm not sure exactly how he manages to get up there - or down, but I'm thinking it's probably better if I don't know. So far he hasn't broken anything during any of his daring investigations!

Happy January, 2025!