The cousins in the UK are suffering an infestation of snow and ice in quantities not seen for a generation. Heather Uphilldowndale (a/k/a Mrs. Uhdd) has been reporting heroically from the front (see, for example, Shadow Side and Up and Down). What, she inquires, would we hardy souls in northern Michigan recommend as our favorite coping strategies? (Keep in mind that she lives in the north of England and already has a Landrover and a good attitude.)
Miss Sadie, the Cowboy and I are spin-dancing with delight. Someone has asked us for an opinion on something! And it is something about which we actually (sorry, PJ) know, er, something. But we also know that a Townshipfull of heads is better than three, and thus have determined to ask for your help with the task. Here, to get us started, are three favorites from the Writing Studio and Bait Shop:
- Miss Sadie says that a good brisk walk gets the circulation going like nothing else. It’s best, she adds, if the walk features a selection of interesting scent trails.
- The Cowboy seconds Miss Sadie’s vote, and adds that one should never stint on treats in wintertime. He believes there has been a marked shortage of treats at our house in recent weeks, and begs to know how he might acquire some of the iced cakes referred to by Mrs. Uhdd.
- Gerry says that no one should tackle a real winter, with its real snow and ice, without wool socks, YakTrax, and friends who have snowplows attached to their trucks.
And so, Dear Readers, what would you add to these suggestions? (We know many of you will write from places where oranges, rather than cherries, grow on trees. Your responses will almost certainly be disqualified as wussy. What is wanted here is advice from the brave to the brave. Hang on, Britain! The Michiganians are coming! Also some Canadians!)
Note deer tracks in snow, warm boots on feet, Professional Strength YakTrax on boots
Torch Lake Views 
uphilldowndale
February 4, 2009
When we wanted experience and knowledge, we knew where to come, we are novices at such matters!
Jane Louise
February 4, 2009
When you wake up & look outside, can’t see anything but a blizzard of white stuff & your garage door is frozen shut, that’s the day to make a big pot of “Must-Go” soup. Open the frig, pull out every leftover that “Must-Go”. Odd bits of limp carrots, celery, left-over pasta, the bit of chicken too small to make a serving, the teaspoon of cream that was too good to dump,the green beans from last night’s dinner. Everything is fair game. Even Escalloped Potatoes work. You will create something lovely for a cold winter’s day. The only problem-you will never be able to duplicate it again.
uphilldowndale
February 4, 2009
I’ve been obsessed by soup for a few weeks now, it seems wholly appropiate, comforting and frugal, just the thing for the current climate (economic and the one outside the front door!
katherine
February 4, 2009
soup, and good heavy bread. Yak Trax are very good, wool socks, a scarf and good warm hat or ear muffs, good tires, a snowball fight or snowman or snow angels, and a camera to record it all.
Gerry
February 5, 2009
I can see it now, Heather – the Angel of the North in a snowball fight with Sasquatch. Did we mention that an important means of dealing with real winter is an active fantasy life?
dmarks
February 5, 2009
Can’t leave the Dogman out if it either.
Gerry
February 5, 2009
For that matter, can’t leave the Hodag out. Come to think of it, tracking the Hodag would probably be an excellent way to deal with winter ennui.
Dad
February 5, 2009
The Hodag in winter did a number on us a few times. Ditches, mailboxes, near misses in town, 180 degree spin on black ice on the way to a square dance. I never did see its tracks, however. Oh, and I nearly forgot: Your mom sitting in her good coat in six inches of icy water after trying to help me get into Skunk Creek Farm’s driveway.
Gerry
February 7, 2009
Dad, it must have been the Hodag who was responsible for Grampa’s Unfortunate Encounter with the Tree. As I recall the story, shortly after he nosed the old black “cruck” into said tree, Grampa was heard to exclaim, “Who put that there?!?”