Talking to Myself Ten

Aleksei Belikh in fur hat, brown fur coat with neighbors and snowman, Kostroma, Russia, after a big snow.

Talking to Myself Ten February 24, 2020

First sleet, then snow, surprised us, although
it had been predicted. We didn’t think it would
be cold enough. Tim kept the woodstove
burning I watched the sleet changing to flakes, small
but insistent and sticking. He saw to getting the
dogs out and back in with snow on their coats.
That was Thursday. By Friday afternoon, it was
nearly gone, and we only lost power for two
hours in the night. Tim set up candles. I slept
through it. I didn’t want to risk falling, so he fed
the hens and kept the fire going. He stayed home 
from his morning job but went to his afternoon
one. The dogs loved the snow; the chickens
hated it. They thought the ground had disappeared.
I was timid until I was sure the ice was gone.
Our friends stopped by Wednesday night but 
continued south on Thursday and missed our 
snowstorm. The road outside was quiet in the
early morning, and then the long-haul trucks
returned. By Saturday I could see the snow 
was gone, and ventured out.