Snow-raking

 

When your house has a low-pitch roof, as mine did, snow can build up more easily. When you have more than say, 18" on your roof, it's time to haul out the "snow rake" and pull as much off the edges as you can. 

The primary reason is to prevent "ice dams" from forming. That's when the snow at the edge melts and refreezes... then when more snow melts, the water has nowhere to drain, but backs up, eventually draining into your house. But with the edges free, melting and draining occurs properly and faster.

I owned my little house for the 2018-2019 and 2019-2020 winters complete, but sold the house January 2021. I miss many things about it, but not the snow-raking.

Q-Force

 

My introduction to anime was in the late '70s, when Gatchaman was imported and repackaged as Battle of the Planets, to capitalize on the sci-fi craze reignited by Star Wars.

While Greg, Monica, and I were having a mini comics retreat early in 2019, somehow the idea resurfaced of "us" as members of G-Force (who, in the anime wore bird-themed uniforms: eagle, condor, owl, falcon, swan).

Here we are, Monica the cockatoo, Tim the toucan, and Greg the parrot.

Bed hog

When I first adopted Mr. Darby, I was determined he not be allowed on furniture. Though I stuck to that by way of the sofa, his pitiful yearning gnawed at me. After a few months, I acquiesced, inviting him to the bed for a few minutes. He had been so desperate for attention, he passed out laying on top of me. 

For a while, he honored the few minutes, but learned that he could jump onto the bed mid-night and not wake me. So, it was difficult to break him of the habit.

In my NH house, the bedrooms were perfectly proportioned for full sized beds... which turned out to be a little too small for me + dog. Plus, being so cold, he was always cuddled against me for warmth.

Ultimately, I was relegated to a small sliver of the bed.

Back to NH

Back in 2018, after 15 years at MIT, and living in Cambridge and Somerville, I accepted a position at Dartmouth College. Professionally, it was time for a change, and not far from the College, my elderly father owned a camp site. My sister, too, was not terribly far away, so the move made sense on few levels. 

Once I adapted to the quiet, I was off to a fun start fixing up my 1950s ranch. 

The new job worked out well, as well, and the woodsy commute inspired a good number of early sketches back in my home state.