Tuesday, January 11, 2011

Another Snow Day

I love two snow days in a row in the middle of a detox! Dave never left the house yesterday. Jessie only went as far as the yard to play in the snow. I went to the studio and worked a bit in the total solitude and quiet. Today will follow much the same pattern. I already meditated, did my breath work, and drank 6 t. of clarified butter (it was only supposed to be 4... oops). When I finish posting I'll answer an incredible backlog of emails that I haven't managed to purge since before Hawaii and put together my piece list for the BMAC--I think I'll call Todd too--it's been awhile since I harassed him. Then a midmorning breakfast of steelcut oats and dried berries cooked in the rice cooker, and off to the studio to begin experimenting with the new work for the BMAC! I don't know if Roadway will be delivering my glass today or not--I'm betting not--but I'll be there anyway. I wish I had remembered to ask Lee to move the barrels of cullet from right by the back door as that is the staging area I need to the cases of glass. Ah well, they aren't moving in the snow and ice!

Haven't heard back from Bob at Olympic Kilns yet about the new furnace--I'm sure they were closed yesterday too (and probably today). It is very weird when the whole world shuts down and hunkers in bunkers around you. I can't remember any times in Montana or Chicago where we were holed up for snow for more than a day.

The last time in memory of an event that had this effect on me was when Mount St. Helen's went off in 1980. We were told to remain in our dorm rooms, all classes on the University of Montana campus were canceled, non-essential businesses were shut down, and people were told to avoid going outside if at all possible. My not-so-perfect memory says the ash fall (Missoula is about 400 miles east of Mount St Helens) kept us indoors and out of class for a few days. Too bad that was back in the non-digital days and my pictures are all hardcopy or I'd post one here. Of course the Mass Mind (aka Google) supplied me with a retrospective from the Missoulian--my favorite quote from which is:

"By Monday, nearly everything in town was closed, including the bars.

"We certainly had a lot of responsibilities making sure places were closed down, particularly with the bars," said Missoula County Sheriff's Capt. Greg Hintz, who was working night shift in May of 1980. "Beyond that, police work was pretty easy. The streets were just vacant." "

(Some might question the Business nature of this post, but heck, I say a natural disaster (aka "snow" in the south) counts!) Now I've dawdled enough. Someone just called and registered for a beadmaking class for this Sunday--a sure sign that I need to get the on-line registration thing working. Hmmm. Maybe I should readjust my plans for the day and work on it instead of firing--especially since I don't think I'm going to have glass delivered today!

3 comments:

Bill said...

After the blizzards of 1967, 1977 and 1978, Chicago was closed down for several days; especially in Hyde Park. So there.

How did you manage to make it all that way to the studio through the fifty foot drifts, uphill both ways?

You drank BUTTER??? EW.

Brenda Griffith said...

Well I didn't move to Chicago until '87, so there! Although I did travel through on a Greyhound bus in '78 in the middle of the blizzard on my way to Michigan to take a scholarship test. I remember the drive being pretty intense.

My parents have two feet of snow at their place now--love how you just get the driveway shoveled and the city plow comes along and covers it all up again :-0

And to clarify, I drank GHEE or clarified butter (I kill myself I am so funny!)--no dairy solids, not the same thing as regular butter. All I can say is Yum.

Unknown said...

It's a small world....Mount St. Helen, we had traveled 50 miles from our home ,to see Carol's mom and were stuck there for 4 days. The cars couldn't run,the fine,falling ash would plug the motors. I remember looking at the street light across from the house, at noon, and you could barely see it, it was almost pitch black and very eerie. We still have a tupperware container of ash and the news papers from Washington State.