That’s it! I’m protesting! I’m sick of all this snow!

One of the annoying things about living on the leeward side of the Rocky Mountains is while friends and family on the windward side are posting pictures of the first signs of spring and warmer temperatures, we get the deep freeze and this:

At least someone likes the snow

Snow.

And more snow.

Did I mention we have snow?

I can’t even get to the garden to cut it back for spring. I literally need snowshoes and a dog sled to do so. (I’m suddenly living up to the stereotypes my American friends had of me when I told them I was moving to The Great White North. I just won’t tell them I wear my snow pants to work.)

I refuse to shovel our driveway. Why? Because the forecast calls for, you guessed it, MORE SNOW! 25-30cm (10-12 inches) of the stuff.

Tweet from local meteorologist Paul Dunphy

“Oh, but it’s spring snow.” My foot. (My foot, one foot deep in snow.)

My front hedge after 3 feet of snow

The Christmas decor is coming down with the speed of molasses. I’ll have it down by Chinese New Year. I hope. Oddly enough, I already miss the glimmer and the glint of all the gold and silver. Maybe that’s why I’m super un-motivated to pack it away for the year.

My faeries are keeping tabs on the progress, though. I’ll get them down from the shelf and find them a home on the counter once Christmas fades away from the rafters.

I’m also trying to time my indoor starter seeds. This year, I want to put planter boxes on the back porch where it will be nice and toasty before the snows melt. My plans are for herbs and a few crops, like garlic and chives. Hopefully the Boo won’t munch on them when she’s out there basking in the rays.

Our resident prognosticator, Balzac Billy, didn’t see his shadow; supposedly that means an early spring. But I don’t know. All that snow on the flowerbeds is going to take quite a few Chinook days to melt. I hope I won’t find a veritable highway of vole tunnels when the snows flee.

But I’ll take voles over gophers any day. That reminds me. I need to replant all my lilies the gophers ate.

Just another joy of living in the foothills.