Tom saw the weasel that has been living around here all year in his white winter coat. Weasels turn all white except the tip of their tail which is black. They are usually called ermine in the winter instead of weasels (maybe people used to think they were a different animal?). Their tubular shape allows them to dive into the snow without digging to catch mice and other little critters that live under the snow. Their small, light body allows them to hop around on top of the snow without sinking in. They are great fun to watch and incredibly cute for such efficient little killers. I haven't seen the little fellow yet this winter, but I'm happy to have a resident weasel, to keep the pack rat and mouse populations under control. The pictures above and below were taken off the web.
Tom and Khufu left the day after New Years. Khufu withstood the snowmobile torture with much more equanimity than the first time. He actually looked interested in the world going by. And I'm told he was calmer in the car as well. So perhaps his Montana adventure will make him a wiser, more worldly cat.
Meanwhile, back at the cabin, I made a New Year's resolution to ski every day I'm home this winter. The weather promptly indulged me with three days of snow. The first day it was pretty warm so the snow was heavy and wet, but it just kept getting colder each day until today it stayed pretty close to zero degrees all day. The ten inches of wet, heavy snow made a good base on the old, crusted snow. Then the cold weather piled up another a foot and a half of dreamy, whipped-creamy powder on top of it. Plodding around in the heavy snow was a bit tedious, but this powdery stuff is nothing but fun.
Today the sun came out. I had to do the morning chores first: getting a good fire going, shoveling walkways to the bathhouse and the woodpile and the snowmobile, hauling firewood into the house from the woodpile, and cutting up kindling. The cold, crisp air and sunshine was teasing me all the while.
When the house was warm and snug and there was a good supply of wood to keep it that way, I gave in to the siren call of the day and strapped on my fat skis - there's finally enough snow depth that I don't need the rock skis!
Here are some pictures of my own private ski hill:
It's not steep enough to avalanche, but it is steep enough to make a few turns. The light powder is what we call "Hero Snow" because it makes it so easy to ski that everybody looks like a hero no matter how bad a skier they are.
Everything was wonderful, exhilarating fun until I skied off the bank above the driveway, caught some air, and promptly did a head plant. The snow was so deep and soft I wallowed around for about five minutes spitting snow out of my face, trying to get enough of me on the surface to stand up again. It probably would have been easier if I hadn't been laughing so hard.
I got home just as the sun was turning the Absarokas pink. Tired and sweaty with numb feet, I was happy to change into dry clothes and drink some cocoa by the fire. 2010 looks like it is going to be a great year.
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