Footprints (not the Jesus version) - Part II

My sister asked for a photo of the strange footprints. I told her there was no accounting for the veracity of a photo in these days of AI slop. However, I felt I owed her the opportunity to share in the holiday creepiness. I stood in my bedroom window overlooking the deck in the early post-Solstice darkness that evening and decided, believer in the supernatural or not, no, I wasn’t going to take a picture of those footprints still facing my window other than in bright sunlight. I didn’t want to see something in my camera that might make sleep impossible.

Late the next morning when it was indeed bright, I snapped a photo of the snowy, yet rapidly melting, deck with my Android. But when I went to send it to my sister, the photo was only a pure, white, undifferentiated square. I’ve never seen that before. An all black photo because of a stray finger, pointing it at the floor, a pocket picture, or because my case has a flap to the cover the camera that’s pretty loose... Absolutely. But all white? Maybe it had been slow to snap and I’d caught the textured ceiling. I pointed my camera phone out the window again and could clearly see the deck and footprints and the backyard full of squirrel and rabbit tracks leading off to the neighbors’ yards. I took another photo and, when I went to share it, again...all white. I looked carefully at the lens and the case, giving both a soft wipe and took another photo. Again. Solid white.

I stared at the photo and realized it wasn’t as completely white as I’d first thought. I could see my deck, barely see it, in the photo. It was as though it was in the middle of the densest snowstorm I’d ever seen. Or at least comparable to some of the big ones. Only a shadow in the swirl. I stared more intently, trying to make out the edges of the deck and the footprints and, as I did, I felt like I was looking into one of those magic eye photos. That if I stared and stared, the white would become a pattern and would take on movement, like a real snow storm, and the deck would clearly come into focus under the overwhelming white and between the sheets of flakes.

But it wasn’t just the deck. My eye caught more. Something else was in the snowstorm. On the deck. Wrapped in the densest of the swirling white. I couldn’t tell what. But with a dawning uneasiness, I realized that it was absolutely something I didn’t want to suddenly snap into focus. It felt like it was trying to see me as much as I was trying to see it. Like the snow storm was on both sides – me looking into the photo and whatever was in there looking out, and I wouldn’t know what that meant until the moment we could see each other. I flipped the camera off, breathing a little faster. Maybe I was imagining all of it. Seeing things where there was nothing to see.

I owed my neighbor Ted a beer and realized maybe that was an opportunity for a sanity check. Grabbing an Arbeiter from the fridge, phone in my other hand, I walked the 50’ to his door and hoped he was home. His dog barked loudly from the other side of the door, nothing new there, and after a few minutes Ted appeared. He was appreciative of the beer and we took a moment to chitchat, as we always do. I held up my phone, the photo called up on the screen, and asked if he could discern anything unusual.

He stared at it and after a joke about an old guy and his Android said, “Is this some old photo of your deck? I don’t think we’ve ever had a storm that big since I’ve lived here. Definitely not since you got the deck within the last two winters. Was there a wind storm kicking up the snow back there, or are you playing around with some Instagram filter?” He didn’t hand back the phone immediately, but continued to stare at it, moving his head a little with small tilts, as if trying to looking between snowflakes. I assured him it was a new photo and I’d taken it only that morning.

He started to tell me that was impossible. And then he hitched. Mid-word. He looked shocked for a moment. I would have almost thought scared, although if you’re like me, you don’t know your neighbor well enough to make that call. You OK?” I asked him. Ted shook his head. Not with a no. But like he was trying to shake off something or shake something out of his head.

“I’m fine,” he replied. “Thought I saw something, but it’s just the deck and you standing here screwing with me.” I shrugged, having gotten nowhere with the photo. I wished him a happy holidays, particularly now that he had sixteen ounces of extra beer, and took my leave. I deleted the photo as I walked back to the house figuring I’d take a few photos later and see if my camera was misbehaving and due for a replacement.

...

I’m back...it’s 12:30 a.m. Ted texted me. He wants to know if I’m walking around in his backyard and on his deck. I looked out the bedroom window, trying to see his backyard from my angle where our houses align. I can’t get a good view of the area near his house. But I can see one thing. The footprints, which had ended facing my window, now loop back to the edge of my deck on Ted’s side and disappear off the edge. I wonder what Ted saw in that photo. I wonder if something saw him.

Footprints (not the Jesus version) - Something for my Sister

Last night after family fondue and a Christmas eve movie, I was tried and hit the bed around 11:30. I fell asleep right away, but woke up after what seemed only a short time. One of those situations where you feel like your body forgot to do something as far as nighttime prep goes and is saying, “Not yet.” I looked at my Garmin with the light up watch face and it had only been an hour since I’d hit the sack. I thought maybe I had a full bladder after the holiday movie Scotch and that was what had popped me awake. Alcohol doesn’t sit as well as it used to these days.

But then I heard snow crunching outside. Loud enough that I assumed it was what had interrupted my sleep. I listened for a moment, trying not to move or breathe too loud and miss the specifics of the location. But I couldn’t tell if it was coming from the side of the house, the neighbor’s back yard, or our back yard. It seemed like it might be a midnight bathroom run by the neighbor’s dog, Odin, although usually he gives a finishing flurry of barks. Or maybe it was someone taking a late night short cut home through our yard after a party at one of the houses on the cul de sac. That’s happened before, although usually it’s kids avoiding a long walk from the bus drop. That clearly wasn’t the case after midnight. I thought it would pass right away. And it seemed for a moment as though it had, as if my attention had caused it to stop, which I’m sure we’ve all experienced with a strange, nighttime noise. But then, right as I was starting to drift off again in little cycles of eye-closing microsleep, it came back, intermittently crunching in the snow. Enough noise that I started to worry someone was messing around behind the house.

We just had new windows put in, including where I was in the upstairs bedroom that looks out over the back yard, so there are no blinds to keep the noise out. Perhaps I was hearing something from much further away than I suspected. Amplified Christmas eve squirrels chasing each other through what’s left of the berried trees, or some of the other neighborhood dogs doing their late night business. It was still worth a check despite there being likely, even common, sources. Who knew if someone had decided our new windows and doors were worth a “security check” while we were asleep. So I rolled out of bed for a quick look, not even bothering to throw on the nearby robe. I stood framed in the back window, attentive in nothing but underpants, scanning for the source of the noise.

Nothing. No noise. Not even a squirrel bouncing between trees. The only disturbance I could see were footprints in the snow on the deck. Which was strange. Because we don’t use the deck in the winter. And because there’s no yard access to the deck. We didn’t have steps put in when it was built the year before last. You can only access it through the full season porch. Which was locked. Wasn’t it? We’d last used that door in the fall, before the snow fell. It was locked, I told myself. Of course it was.

The footprints started on the side near the neighbor’s house and were directed toward that … locked … porch door. Strangely, they ended halfway there. Had someone tried to get in the house, changed their mind, and backtracked? Some drunk neighbor who thought they were sneaking home after a bender? Or again, one of those local kids, maybe out past curfew and confused trying to skulk home after curfew?

If they had – although I found it difficult to believe someone would assume a stairless deck was the entrance to their own home, but alcohol can play some unusual mind games – they would have left a mess of the snow on the deck rails and presumably used the little table in the back patio area to get to the deck, likewise leaving a mess of the snow there. But I could see the deck rails and I could see the small table five feet below the deck and both were undisturbed, covered in a layer of pristine, although slightly melted, snow without so much as a squirrel print. While I was standing there in the window, thinking about how someone could have air dropped onto my deck, I heard the crunch of slightly melted snow again. This time there was no question where the noise had come from. It wasn’t from next door, or a distant sound across the expanse of the dark back yard. It came directly from in front of me and below. From the deck.

There were two more foot prints in the snow.

But these prints weren’t aimed at the door to the porch or two divots in the snow I had missed leading back off the deck. These were pointed directly at my window. Like someone had turned while taking a slow step forward to face me from the center of the deck. This is where, if this was a horror story, someone inevitably says, “I couldn’t see anyone, but I could feel the weight of invisible eyes watching me.” That’s how you know it’s not real. Because that’s absolutely not how it felt. Despite the obvious presence of feet, it didn’t feel like an invisible human was there, doing something as human as watching through human eyes. There was only the impression something was there, I’d caught it’s attention, and it was waiting, pointed directly at me. Ominous? Yes. The unknown always triggers a bit of fear. My presence in the window. Its presence on the deck. Waiting. For what? Did it want inside? Was it out for a walk? Was it dangerous? Was I as much of an enigma to it as it was to me?

I stood there for a good five minutes, although it felt much longer, before backing away. I gave the deck a second glance to see if my movement was reciprocated and, when it wasn’t, lay down in the dark room again wondering if that would be a catalyst for some sort of action. I waited for the crunch that might indicate it was moving toward the house or going away now that I was no longer holding its attention, or the rattle and scrape of the porch door which would tell me for sure whether it was locked. But that crunch never came and eventually I drifted off, feeling safe with locked doors between me and the presence on the deck.

When I awoke this morning, I looked out the bedroom window again safe in the bright light of day. The footprints are still there and it’s even clearer they start on the deck and end on the deck with no visible disturbance of nearby snow. Two of them are still pointed directly at my bedroom window as though someone stopped to look up, caught in their secret walk midjourney. I don’t feel it out there the same way I felt something standing there last night. I don’t know if something is out there waiting. Or what it’s waiting for. Besides me.

So much ***damn snow...

This is what my driveway looks like, and there's more snow on the way this weekend. Not owning a snowblower is leading to some rather tall mounds at the end of the driveway. Usually Eryn heads down there to top it off once in a while, but the dog has been peeing near the road (and a bunch of other dogs as well) so the snow mounds have dog pee in them. She's not willing to crawl around in dog pee for me. That makes me sad.  If we get an appreciable amount, it will be time to move to throwing the snow against the existing mounds and just reducing the width of the driveway to a single car (and getting rid of the side area).

 

Snow

Ice, snow, ice, snow....bit of a mess out there.  I've got one friend who slid and sideswiped his car, and my wife spun out and took a chunk out of her hubcap last night.  For me, it's been fairly uneventful, although Thursday, getting Eryn to and from school was a bit of a challenge.

In the morning, it was clear but icy when we left, but just a few minutes into our ride and it started to snow and whiteout.  When we got closer to school I had to have her confirm that what I was turning onto was the off ramp.  After dropping her off, I stopped to answer my phone and hack a portal (ingree) on the way back to work, so I pulled into a church lot.  But someone had cleverly plowed the first few feet of the lot and nothing else, which I couldn't see in the white out, so the Mustang just stopped, pinned by snow under it and wedged along the side.  I was momentarily panicked (obviously AAA would be a while), but then scooped out all the snow I could, carefully lined the wheels up exactly with how I'd come in and backed it out in the main road when there was a gap.

Later, after a LOT more snow had fallen I went to pick Eryn up and made a stop at the library.  Unfortunately, the library is at the bottom of a big hill.  So I got down fine, but the rear wheel drive wasn't having it trying to do the almost 45 degree turn uphill.  I couldn't even drive across the parking spots without getting stuck and having to back up.  I had almost given up when I decided the angle on the other side gave me a better run at the hill and had been tamped down a bit more by other library patrons.  So I went in reverse all around the lot until I got traction to turn and roll up the hill.  Definitely helpful that there weren't many cars around.

Likewise, when I stopped at the school to pick Eryn up, I did a drive through the lot to make sure I wasn't going to block every other car going through the lot and at the little hill that exits onto the main road, it was obvious I wasn't going to be able to turn left.  So I turned right, hopped the berm of snow, and then immediately turned left.  The guy behind me looked surprised, but understanding.  Later, I saw a guy outside his car pushing while his daughter drove to get over that same berm in a car with a higher base.

So we got home, and then couldn't manage to get into the garage.  I could have parked on the street and shoveled, but I wasn't so sure I wouldn't have to push it loose if I did that.  So Eryn and I swapped places so she could drive while I pushed.

I pushed.  And pushed.  And pushed.  And pushed some more.  Finally I asked her if she was giving it enough gas, because it seemed it wasn't getting any acceleration at all.  She said yes, so I said to give it a bit more.  I pushed, and then asked, was she sure she was in drive?  No.  She was in park.  She was embarrassed.  But at least it was easy to get in the garage after that.  Unfortunately, it's what likely made my back hurt so bad in conjunction with the shoveling.

Here's a nice sunrise picture of the ice at rest.  Cahokia has their earthen mounds.  We have a snow mound/s.  Mean Mr. Mustard says he's on vacation, but for all I know his car is under that pile somewhere and he's running out of gas to keep himself warm barely a hop, skip, and a jump from his cube.  Very To Build a Fire.

Snow

I refuse to be up to the minute.  It's a blog, not a Twitter feed or a Facebook wall.  So these are pictures from yesterday morning, just in case you weren't tired of looking at them all over your social networks.  I'd say it all seems to be melting away, but while I'm sitting here at Dunn Brothers writing and entering Coke Rewards caps for charity - it's exciting to be able to look at the window and see one of the two schools you're entering points for - I notice there are piles of snow to the right that still look to be about twelve feet tall.  That's bad news if you need to get some bicycling in before the Ironman, MS60, and Almanzo 100.  The 100 worries me.  Without a few good rides under my belt, beyond the Ironman and MS60, that's going to be rough.

So here are my beautiful pictures of our mid-April snowstorm.  Three of the four are of the back porch and my wife's vine system.  I took  more of the other snow-covered objects, but I liked these best.  And I'm hoping to put some hydroponic grow systems back there for vegetables if there's ever a grow season, and it's slowly falling apart, so this might be one of the last chances to photograph it before I change our back view.  The angle in the pictures is a bit strange.  I wonder if the accident has made me somewhat lopsided (usually surgery to your hip does)?  I'll have to watch for that in the future.







The picture without the table and chair.  Those planks in the lower left are remainders from the wheelchair ramp last summer.  I'm hoping to make them go away now that I'll have a summer where I'm steady on my feet.

There's no snow.  For end of November, it's beautiful outside.  I feel so happy I've paid $220 to ensure the duplex/renters don't have to shovel their drive.  But I have a first snow of the season picture of Eryn to post, despite that it has all melted.

Giant F-ing Snowstorm

That snowstorm sucked.  My official tally was six shovelings of from 1-6" each time.  According to the weather news, we got somewhere around 15-16".  I know it was bad because my back still hurts, and I had the urge this morning to take a tape measure to the driveway to see if I could figure out how many pounds of snow I'd actually lifted.  Then I thought, "I'd just have to take into account the differing densities of fresh snow versus snow plow toss up, and the varying lifting power between the original one foot lift and end state five foot+ lift.   Supposedly, 15 minutes of lifting snow is moderate physical activity.  Might as well have been rowing for hours.

But it made for some good pictures and video.

Mandatory picture of the bird bath showing approximately how much snow we got.  We actually got more than this - it piled up too high for the bird bath to be accurate.


Eryn at the front door coming out to help me shovel.


Writing her name in the snow.  Later, the dog would help her.


The dog likes to pretend she's a mole or a groundhog.


She loves the snow.  Loves it.  Even if it's 17 below (like it was today), she's happy bounding around the snow banks until she's covered head to foot.


Told you Luna wanted to help with the writing.  She's really taken to Eryn lately.  They're good friends most of the time.


Luna as a snowplow.  That's not our cat behind her, just a cat sculpture in the "garden".


Ice dams on the roof and the joys of a lot of wind coupled with a lot of snow.


Eryn and Luna in the front yard.


A view from the fourth floor.  We drove over to the corporate kids' holiday party, despite the snow.  It was earlier in the day, so the Ford Fiesta was capable of the drive.  If it had been later, we'd have been in a bit of trouble.  Apparently enough people skipped that they were handing out the kids' gifts today at work.

Snowmobiling!

As part of "Mom's out of town" festivities, Eryn and I took a papa san up to Logan (it took about 15 seconds for the cat to claim it), went to Ollie's hockey scrimmage, and then went to my brother's house north of the cities to have dinner and do some snowmobiling in the back yard. Eryn had never been on a snowmobile before, so it was a treat to a.) ride as a passenger on the bit Cat, b.) ride solo on the Kitty Cat (and secondary kid's machine), and c.) ride the sled pulled behind the snowmobile.

On the Kitty Cat. This is the one she was on the most, going around and around in circles. I know, no helmet. But the speed was pretty limited. When she switched to Ollie's slightly bigger sled, she ran into a tree, but she still wasn't going fast enough in Andrew's back yard to be worried.

On the big snowmobile. She wasn't driving - she was a passenger. I was going to have her rev it, but then I thought that might be a bad idea if she went shooting off into the water.

In case there was any question about whether she was having a good time. When we put away the snowmobiles later, she cried.

A panoramic view of my brother's back yard with Eryn on the Kitty Cat in the distance. It was more like the rides you do at the fair around a track then real snowmobiling, but it was perfect for learning to ride/drive.

A couple of videos of Eryn on the Kitty Cat. I hauled Ollie around while she drove in circles. Apparently he's taught many of his friends to drive the snowmobile that's just larger than the Kitty Cat as it will pull a sled and he loves to ride. I heard a story today that he'd run into my brother-in-law's car the first time he tried to drive a snowmobile. Given my brother's history of running into things when he was younger, that's pretty funny.


Another video on the Kitty Cat:

Jabba the Snow Hut

I think my back still hurts from shoveling snow. I have a snowblower, but it's of dubious value until I get it fixed or get a new one, so when the big storm came through I shoveled. Perhaps five times, I lost count, if you don't count the shoveling I did at my sister's house on Christmas Eve, or the two shovelings my Dad did while I was away from the house. My favorite was coming back Christmas Day to the plowed in end of the driveway that had a mixture of ice and water six feet by three feet by about twelve feet. Each shovel full was a forty pound effort that leaked water and salt all over my shoes as it poured through the crack in my plastic scoop.

I wonder if my boneless snowman at my sister's house managed to soak up enough water to freeze in place before they could remove him. He reminded me of Jabba the Hut. I should have found some little Leia-like critter to chain to him.

Eryn's Feeling Better - Compounding Pharmacies

For anyone that was concerned about Eryn and her puke bowl, like my sister was, she's doing much better now. Her ear hurt something fierce, and by 2:00 a.m. she was crying more than sleeping, so we called the nurse line. Her temperature was down from the 101.6 earlier in the evening, but the ear was hot and hurt, so the nurse recommended we take her to the E/R. Unfortunately, as most Minnesotans know, it was snowing heavily Christmas night. Heavy enough that I had to shovel the driveway before we left, and the ride to the hospital was a bit unnerving given the ice. I think it was the three hours at the E/R that was killer, though. Ugh...it's an ear infection, she's had one before, recently...can't you just look at her clinic's chart and be done in a minute and a half? Afterward we hit the 24x7 pharmacy because the hospital pharmacy was running over an hour wait. Two doses of drugs and a bunch of ear drops later, she was feeling much better.

Here's our basketball hoop at 2:30 a.m. or so, right before we left.


Why do they call it a compounding pharmacy? Does anyone know what this means, without having to look it up, unless they're already a pharmacist? Isn't just "pharmacy" sufficient so no one is confused? If you really need custom liquid forms of traditional pills or specialty concoctions, do you drive around looking for a compounding pharmacy sign? Or do you look up pharmacy in the yellow pages and make a few calls? I'm guessing not the former. When I saw this sign, I pictured a pharmacy recursing on itself into a million little fractal pharmacies, or a place where you could leave your prescription to earn interest on it as long as you weren't taking it, so it would be ready when you really were in ill health.

First Snow

Here's me, oh so pretty after the first shoveling of the snow today. Who needs one of those fancy spiky haircuts so it looks like I'm not balding - I can achieve the same thing just standing around outside. I think I look a little like my nephew Artie in this pic.

We were going to use the snowblower to get rid of the snow this year. We got rid of the huge one that doesn't fit in any of the cars, so I can't ever get it repaired, and were going to buy a new one, but my father in law upgraded and gave us his used one. It seems to have some issues. I nearly wore my arm off getting it to start (which makes it a non-entity for the purposes of Pooteewheet getting it started), and once it did start it was stop and go a dozen times. But the real issue was that most of the time it only threw snow about 12". That's fine on the edges of the driveway, but if I have to move snow outward 12" at a time from the center, it will literally take me hours to finish the driveway. I'm not sure if I need to take it in, or worry about a new machine again that has an electric start for my wife. Here's the use snowblower, with it's erectile dysfunction. Note that it doesn't matter how slow I go, or how small the slice of snow I blew, the usual behavior was what you see when it's sort of dribbling snow. A few times it was worse, looking sort of like a bubbling fountain, and for a few seconds (in this video), it seems to work like a snowblower should.