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Still winter and the casualties begin to mount.  Gutters have bent and fallen from houses.  The streets are a pothole lovers dream.  I don’t know who those people may be – asphalt companies maybe?  The landscape changes slowly if at all.  Piles of black snow and ice everywhere.  Frozen and stuck in place with no relief in sight.

Squirrels have destroyed the bird feeder.  The top has been torn off and they have chewed through the plastic on the side.  The feeder resembles a sieve and I can only fill it part way before the seed pours out through the holes.

Waiting for another snowstorm and I really can’t complain.  A hundred years ago there was no weather forecasting.  You went to bed and whatever the weather was when you woke up was a surprise.  There wasn’t the insulation or heat or heavy coats we have now to keep warm.  The weather just showed up whenever it did and that was what you got.  So, yeah it’s tough but not nearly as difficult as it was in the past so really – just shut up.

My Dad always told me that when it snowed that he had to shovel out the hydrants so the firemen could find them easily in an emergency.  I still do that on my block and that job seems to have defaulted to me since I am the only neighbor who does it.  Even the guy who has the hydrant in front of his house and who owns a snowblower ignores the fire plugs.

Winter, still snowing and still cold but I see people adapting.  Runners are out, people are riding bikes and taking walks.  People are dealing with it.  I see a cardinal at the feeder.  I wonder if birds send thank you notes.  I’m certain the local squirrels owe me one.

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