Tuesday, February 11, 2014

Snow Days in Newberg.

Unexpectedly, our little town was covered. For days and days.

It was not the most snow I've gotten,

but snow in a little town
buried in the hills and vineyards of western Oregon-

a town small enough to not own a snow plow-

is a unique experience.

On the third day after it began in earnest...
the whole world was still white.

That does not happen in Chicago.

Nothing had been plowed. No one could drive. There was no gray slush all over the roads.

When it snows in Oregon, the snow stays.

And in a small town that's slow-paced anyway...
when it snows like this,
one and all go unapologetically into hibernation-mode.

Everyone camped out at their homes and with their neighbors.
On the third day the coffee shop opened, and some people walked there.
I made it to the post office, packages carefully tucked in garbage bags-
 when I got there the woman behind the desk laughed at all the snow piled on my shoulders and hat.

I heart my quirky town. This was from about an hour after it started, when no one was sure if it would stick or not...

Thursday night Jeffrey and Sheri unexpectedly showed up at my door on skis.

I texted families on my street and Friday morning, when kids had no school and grown-ups had no work, we had a spontaneous neighbor potluck brunch (with eggs from this chicken!).

My girls spent two days making a massive snow village,
complete with various roads, rooms, an igloo, and a restaurant (serving snowballs topped in maple syrup).


We had a serious and intergenerational snowball fight.

I moved my sewing machine so that I could look at the snow out the window as I worked.

I participated in the building of two snowmen,
and had one drawn on my window in [window] crayon.

I walked the mile-ish to Kim and Jeff's the first night, thinking I'd easily head home after dinner;
a plan that was quickly thwarted by the three-times-as-long-as-expected it took me to get there.

So I got to have a spontaneous sleepover with my buddies-
(following Mom's instructions not to talk when they came downstairs in the morning so as not to wake me up, they whispered to me as they climbed under the covers that they were being very quiet).

(7:10 am. They're so worth it.)

Friends with 4-wheel drive who eventually made it out texted around for grocery orders, and delivered.

(And found this at the store-

because apparently Oregonians stock up on fresh produce when they hear a storm's a-brewin'.)

A hitched ride with one of those 4-wheel-drivers eventually got me to the Fawvers Saturday evening,
where I joined them in eating cinnamon rolls, reading on the couch, watching the Olympics, and playing Ticket to Ride.

The next day Nicole and Nancy joined me for the three-mile hike back to town.
We waved hello to their car as we passed it on the way,
where they'd left it at the beginning of the snow storm when it became clear that maneuvering it through the hills to their home was not in the cards.

With no school, no work, no church,
a once-in-five-years world surrounding us,
and everyone making use of what food and fun they had readily available...

we read and watched movies and baked,

bundled and walked and skiied and sled,

stopped by each other's houses to knit and eat soup and find entertainment on day four of no roads,

spent time with people we might not normally see (or do, but can't get enough of!)

and enjoyed a kind of beauty our corner of the world doesn't have every day.

It was my kind of week.

1 comment:

K.L. Juskus said...

I woke up this morning thankful for so many things. By the end of the day, I had forgotten gratitude. Thank you for reminding me.

Human Needs Global Resources Covenant, 2009

As fellow travelers on this journey, we commit to this covenant before God. Lord, in Your mercy, hear these our prayers:

When confronted with scarcity, need, and inadequacy, may we be nourished by the Bread of Life and the Cup of Salvation. Abundance overflows from Your table, sustaining all who come in faith. Father, help us.

When monotony blurs our vision and dulls our senses, may we encounter others as Christ did, through intentional presence in daily life, submitting as clay to be formed into vessels filled with the Spirit. Christ, guide us.

When wounded by the fractured condition of Your people, may we be united by Your Lordship in faith, hope, and love; seeing, as through the facets of a diamond, the beautiful spectrum of Your light reflected onto Your holy Church joined in praise. Spirit, empower us.

When all Creation groans, afflicted by injustice and driven to despair, may the promise of redemption root us in the hope of Your Kingdom: "Behold, I am making all things new!"

Holy Trinity, send us now into the world in peace, and grant us strength and courage to love and serve You with gladness and singleness of heart.