Winter Sports

Winter is dragging on and my usual outdoor activities seem less appealing. I look for something to keep myself active and busy during the months of subfreezing temperatures and icy snow.
Skiing seems out of the question. I would have to drive miles to find a decent slope, and it is an expensive way to get hurt.
Then there is the infamous ice fishing, which I have never tried because... it just doesn't make sense. Why would anyone choose to sit out in the middle of a frozen lake for hours inside a claustrophobic hut?  Cross country skiing should be more popular around here.  The trick is finding a day when there is enough snow on the ground without the -25º wind chills.  Jon has found his course around the lake, but can't fit many laps in before the sun sets. It is dark early and invites us to stay indoors.

If I am crazy I can join the polar bear club and plunge into a freezing lake. Or I can seek out a warm gym with indoor pool in which to spend some of those dark hours.  I confess I joined a Pickleball group which meets twice a week, indoors, to hit a plastic ball over a makeshift net. No one can say I don't exercise!
However, these are not the winter sports that really get us going and let us sink into bed exhausted at the end of the day. This is my version of the winter sports that I have taken up since moving to Minnesota.
First I dig myself out. I can spend up to an hour several mornings a week shoveling the driveway before I can get the car out. The snow is not cooperative. It sticks to the pavement and lies over sheets of ice. It laughs at my attempts to shovel and whips back in my face. I scrape and I chisel, knowing that winter is far from over and it will all need to be done again.
Then there is the getting of firewood, because there is nothing better than sitting by a real fire on a cold night. But firewood just doesn't appear in the wood box.  It must be cut and trucked in from the farm, before carting it piece by heavy piece to our wood pile.

Before making a fire I put on my gloves and boots and traipse outside to look for sticks for kindling and logs that are not covered in snow or ice. I was told that being cold burns calories... I'm certainly burning a few.
This activity usually leads to cooking.  The cold makes you hungry for potpies, warm cookies and soup.  So I shop and I chop, then I roll and I bake.  There is no pizza delivery service here or restaurant nearby, but the eating is good!
The winter sport that keeps me the busiest is home improvement projects. After being forced to stay inside on a day when the snow is howling outside, you start to notice all those less than perfect parts of the house.

In October we started with tearing out carpet, toilets and walls. Yesterday I was tiling the dining room floor and refinishing a table top.  "Not a sport ," you say? Well, tell that to my tennis elbow I got from, not pickleball, but sanding and painting the drywall. If, like me, you have spent hours in Home Depot looking for bullnose tile and thinset, then you know how arduous these projects can be. I spend hours researching and searching for materials. And I often have to start again when I have come to the conclusion that it just doesn't look right. This is a winter sport that I am just learning and will need a lot more practice before I can join the big leagues.

Puzzles and Cabin Fever

I sit indoors on a work day.  School has been cancelled for the sixth time in three weeks.  The snow is blowing and temperatures are frigid. I feel like staying indoors, but I am struggling to come up with something to do to while away the day.  I finally turn my attention to the jigsaw puzzle that was given to me recently as a white elephant.  I know it is a joke because my interest in puzzles is a joke to the Jahnkes.  They simply can't imagine why anyone would want to work on a difficult puzzle, indoors, for hours and days. So when someone found a 1000 piece second hand puzzle of white polar bears on a white background of snow, they thought it would be a perfect gift for me.

I was surprised to find that the previous owner had packed the pieces away in ziplock bags, and had left large sections intact. That certainly made getting started easier.  Even with the just the edge pieces, I made slow headway. Every piece is white, and there is no way to know if they are placed correctly since there are multiple pieces of the same shape.
As I studied the shapes, I found some traces of whoever had the courage to complete the puzzle. There were twisted and torn pieces, coffee splatter and bits of candy wrapper. It had not been an easy endeavor. I swear one of the edge pieces had teeth marks!
The imperfections gave me somewhere to start. I matched up torn edges and fitted together coffee stains. Then I tackled the bears, whose pieces had been put into a separate bag. When looking for the bear's nose, the only non-white piece, I realized that there was very possibly missing pieces. That didn't deter me, but caused me not to spend too much time looking for any one piece. I wasn't about to give up now that I had started.

As a teacher, this is exactly how I should present rigor to my students.  I make sure to tackle it myself first, then introduce the material to the learners.  I simplify, give hints and help, and above all, encourage them to stick with it. There is so much in life that is difficult, but with a little help can be tackled and mastered.  And then the satisfaction of mastery is our reward.  I think that is why I like puzzles.  I used to buy books of crosswords and complete the newspaper puzzles every day.  I now get my puzzle fix on line, by completing three crosswords, a sudoko and several other word puzzles each morning.  It is a great way to start the day! No matter how challenging, there is a contentment that comes from focusing on all the fascinating combinations of letters and numbers.
I have not always been a cruciverbalist. I was introduced to this pastime by Harold Edmonds, who recently passed away at the age of 99.  My mother was asked to speak at his funeral, and asked for my thoughts.  I didn't say what I would have liked to at the time, fearing my contribution would be too personal.  This is what I would like to share of Harold:

Harold had a love of gardening and crosswords, among other things. When he could be outside he was gardening, and when he couldn't he was working on the cryptic crossword.  As a young person he welcomed me into his home and introduced me to both.  I didn't ever aspire to be a gardener at his level, neither did I have any interest in word puzzles. The cryptic crossword in the newspaper was far too difficult, so far beyond me. But I was allowed to feel like I was helping Harold solve the puzzles. Really I was getting insight into how the cryptic clues worked.  He taught me tips of how to fill in only the crossing squares, and how to solve an anagram.  The cleverness of the clues appealed to me.  I still remember my first solution to the clue: "A fast death"... is "STARVATION" of course.

He was my teacher, my mentor and my cheerleader.  And because of him I have found other things to be passionate about, no matter how difficult they seem at first, or how far beyond me.
It was only much later that I took up gardening and found a real love for the activity.  I would have benefitted  from Harold's tutoring in this area, as I have not had much success yet.  But my limited experience as a gardener only makes me more impressed by Harold's fruits. 
I end with a crossword clue:
"Harold volunteers jam recipe first in mausoleum." 8 LETTERS