I'm hunkering down tonight. Snow is incoming. By now, you should know exactly how my night will be. I will try to sleep, and starting around 2 am, I will be popping up on my knees, looking out the window above my bed, wanting to see the first flakes start to fall. I'll do that six or seven times during the night. There are places around the Denver metro area that could see over a foot of snow. Here, in my part of the county, we might get as much as six inches, by the end of the storm Sunday. I don't know why we always get less, but such is my curse for choosing this spot.
We did a few things to prepare for the cold blast. I carried in a few of my porch plants, as I said I would do. Mr S-P cleared out a few things from the garage, and donated his old table saw to Restore. While he was digging through things, he found Elsa's old backpack, and he stuck it on Saoirse and pushed her inside the house. I don't know what that thing smelled like, either a long-dead dog or some scary thing from the mountain, but it terrified the cats. Athena was so upset she poofed to her largest size, arched her back, and glared at Saoirse. I put my hands on her, worried there was going to be a huge fight, and I could feel Athena shivering in fear. Even Harvey came up with his tail enormous, and sniffed her. Saoirse has been pouting all evening, like this hurt her feelings. Poor girl. I keep giving her extra snuggles.
We took a surprise trip down to Denver this evening, to buy a set of cast iron pans from Facebook marketplace. On the way home, the cold really started to settle in. While it was still reaching highs in the 70s and 80s this month, it was hard to believe the seasons had truly changed. Pulling the pumpkins in off the porch a couple hours ago, I believe. Oh, yes, I believe.
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