Janet's Blog

I'll confess, I was the one who asked for a lot of snow. Okay, I may not have been the only one, because when the whole state is officially in severe or even extreme drought, there are bound to be others who have also prayed for the moisture we need so badly.  I didn't expect to get a lot of snow this weekend, though. When the temperature hovers at 0 degrees, or even lower, any snow we get doesn't usually amount to much. The -30 degree wind chill doesn't even enter into it. Apparently, this snowstorm didn't get the memo--and God answered my prayer, sending the moisture we need, in spite of the forecast.  Originally, the meteorologists were predicting a frigid weekend, with maybe an inch or two of fluffy, white snow. Well, this snow is fluffy, all right, all 8 to 10 inches of it. (That's just a guess.) I'm not complaining, not at all, because a foot of fluffy snow produces much more moisture than just an inch or two. The last time we had significant snow was ...

I was hiking along the old Oregon Trail the other day, on the path that leads to the west from the Scotts Bluff National Monument Visitors' Center. As the sun was just disappearing behind the nearby bluffs, half an hour or so before the official sunset, I started to think about the pioneers who had traveled that same route so many years ago.  My trek was easy: I just drove my car the short distance from home, then got out to walk on the path for a while before heading back home again, an hour later.  Those long-ago travelers didn't have such an easy time of it, though. They had to plan carefully, leaving Missouri in early April so they could make it to Oregon before winter. They didn't have any convenient bridges or paved roads, and no motorized vehicles. They had to depend on simple, canvas-covered wagons with wooden wheels, pulled by a team of mules or oxen. So much could go wrong. The trail was littered with belongings cast aside to make the load lighter, and graves of s...

Jackson spotted them first, or maybe, he smelled them. Anyway, he alerted me to the deer's presence, just a few feet away, on the other side of the ditch. I had driven about a mile from home, past the landfill, to the small parking area next to the bike path that skirts the east side of the National Park land. We had left the house a little later than I planned, so the sun had disappeared behind the Monument before we started walking on the path. It was a beautiful, still evening, right at dusk. I was hoping the light would hold out until we made it back to the car. I was hoping, too, to spot some wildlife of the four-legged kind--I can do without rattlesnakes, thank you very much! The lingering sunset, on the north edge of Scotts Bluff. We met a couple of other walkers on the path, with their black lab, but otherwise, Jackson and I had the path to ourselves. I snapped way too many sunset pictures. On the way back, we crossed over to the alley that borders the bike path, to get jus...

It was a beautiful March day, that last Saturday before Daylight Savings Time lengthened our days--70 degrees, sunny, and amazingly, there was no wind. When I was hiking the Monument the day before, I thought to myself that I needed to text Meagan to bring the kids up for a hike soon, but she beat me to it.  It doesn't bother me to hike the same place two days in a row, especially when the weather is so gorgeous, and the company so stimulating, so we made plans to set off around 3:00 on Saturday, right after Ari's nap. I had estimated that the hike, a little more than three miles from the bottom of Scotts Bluff, all the way to the top, and back down again, would take about an hour. If I had doubled the time, my guess would have been closer. I had forgotten to include the short-legs factor, as well as the curiosity and snack factors. Oh, well--it was a wonderful afternoon to spend outside with Meagan and the grandkids. And we're off!  The girls ran ahead before si...

I'm not going to lie. November has never been my favorite month. I just don't like the abrupt, visual change from fall to winter, from vibrant greens and golds and oranges, to dull, lifeless browns. I prefer balmy days to bitter, cold ones. I would rather walk outside when the breezes blow gently, instead of forcing myself to trudge down the sidewalk into a blustery gale. Long shadows appear early, after Daylight Savings Time ends in November. November is supposed to be a month of thankfulness, so I must talk myself into being grateful, even now. I look for interesting textures in the fading landscape. I relish the beautiful sunsets. I enjoy the time spent with family, when we celebrate November birthdays and Thanksgiving. I even find myself looking forward to approaching blizzards, just because the dazzling, white snow provides an excellent contrast to the normally overwhelming, brown terrain. Celebrating November birthdays turns a dreary day into a happy one. Ev...