Springtime In The Great White North

Tuesday, March 25, 2014.  -15˚C / +5˚F @ 2:08 am (( Wind Chill = -21˚C / -6˚F ))

Maereh raireh!

This is Moe. He’s the world’s sweetest cat. & Might be the world’s biggest pain in the rump.

Like the photo says, Moe is the sweetest cat to ever turn and drive his dew claw through my thumbnail. (ouch) But anyway, Moe is the original escapee cat. He wants to run outside, get about three feet from the door and sit down and smile, looking like he’s saying something like “Nyaaa nyaa, I got out” but just wants to sit there and enjoy life and maybe chew on some grass. But this year there is something out of place.

Moe Snow No Go -

Moe stares out at the snow and says, “But- but- That’s not ‘outside’ – That’s Snow!” and he looks at me with a plaintiff, “Make it go away-“

Last Thursday was the first day of spring. Jassper enjoyed playing in the snow…

Jassper in the falling snow.

Jassper, sticking his nose in fresh falling snow.

I should stop for a moment and see how this is formatting here… Hmmm, not too bad…


Somewhere out there is Canada Street. Photo taken on March 20, 2014

There is at least two feet of snow covering every square inch of ground out there, looking east from what Cathi calls our back door. The snow covered north and south main road along the west side of a river is out there, this side of the house you can see beyond the trees and the falling snow.

What the first day of spring looked like in all white.

Panning down, that’s a bit of Jassper’s fence. He likes being fenced in a lot more than he liked being chained every time he wanted to go out and poop or pee.

I thought the photo without the fence was more appealing, but I included this here.

Part of a tree, corner of a fence and a lot of snow.

That’s the North East corner of Jassper’s fence.

You can get an idea of how deep the snow is here, I think the fence is four feet high. The snow is not packed down hard enough to support Jassper’s weight,  if he ever thought he could casually stroll away, up and over the fence. He’s probably thought of it, but soft snow up to your shoulders (and snout) can be discouraging.

More snow, snowy trees, houses.

Looking out through the porch doorway.

Cathi calls this our front door. The snow that had been plowed across the street had very interesting shapes a couple days before this shot was taken. Now it’s all smoothed over. There is a hill to the left, that is not all snow there. But between 3 and 5 feet of what you see on the left is snow.

—I should quit here and move on to the next sequence.


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