It was entirely my fault, and I apologize to each and every one of you. File it under “Be Careful What You Wish For”! I had just Emailed my last column to my editor, bragging about how much I love (insert four-letter word, starts with “S”…you know, the white stuff?). With a smug feeling of accomplishment, I sat down with a hot cup of tea, and settled in to watch the weather report:

“Hi folks, this is your Meteorologist, Studly Storm, and we’re in for a blizzard. If you look at our color-coded map, you can see that most of our northern neighbors will get at least 24 inches. One exception is this small purple area, centered over Peggy Bruner’s house. Peggy can expect 30-36! She really tempted those Weather Gods this time, huh?”

So, I spent the next week cabin-bound, getting increasingly “squirrelly” as each day passed. The birds were going through their food supply on a daily basis. Trust me when I tell you there were no boots in the world high enough or tight enough to keep 3+ feet of snow from spilling over the top and onto my frozen toes. I made a mental note to add snowshoes to my Birthday Wish list for next year and everyday I ventured out to refill the feeders. From Apples to Worms, something for everyone. By the time I was done, I felt like one of those intrepid (and INSANE) Antarctic explorers. By day 5, I was thinking that deciding NOT to relocate to Alaska to open up “Big Peg’s Lumberjack Inn” was probably a good move on my part. And just when I thought it couldn’t get any worse, 36 inches of snow turned into 8 inches of ice. Good boots were no longer a problem. Standing upright, though, was a bird of another feather. I think I executed a perfect triple axel when I tried to return the peanut feeder to its designated branch. I say this, because the woodpeckers held up little signs that read “10.0”. At least the ones who weren’t laughing.

My lifelines were my neighbors and friends, who called every day to make sure the crazy woman on the mountain was still alive, and my favorite Aunt, who in defiance of the term “Senior Citizen”, kept in touch via encouraging Emails. Other heroes include all the utility companies who kept my life filled with such wonderful things as electricity, gas, phone service and water. I did have a number of wild visitors, though, including three does and a male yearling that came for the cracked corn I put in a tray on top of the snow/ice. I could see little antler buds on Junior’s forehead, portending his eventual departure from the group. But for now, he was content to hang around the Smorgasbird with Mom and the Aunties.

But all things pass, and as I’m writing this, it’s a sunny April day. The crocuses and glories-of-the-(you-know-what) are in bloom. The last of the juncos have departed, and the fox sparrows are passing through, throwing leaves around like a maniacal housewife spring-cleaning a closet (Hmm…must remember to call my mother later). So, I guess we’ve survived another one.

Oh, by the way, did I mention Studly is predicting more snow in two days?