Onslaught of storms dimmed new year's glow

Soundings

By John Dodge | The Olympian • Published January 04, 2009

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Is it just me, or are there others here in South Sound who feel like they had to drag their weary bones into the new year?

The holidays can be tiring even under the best of conditions. But add a steady onslaught of snow storms that began Dec. 14 and didn't let up until after Christmas, then sprinkle in some morning commutes around New Year's Day on roads slick with black ice, and you have the recipe for emotional and physical exhaustion.

That's not to say the 2008 holiday season didn't have its bright moments. The highlight for us was a pre-Christmas weekend in Seattle that included:

• A visit to the Seattle Art Museum to immerse ourselves in an exhibit that explores the artistry and culture of the 39 Pacific Coast Salish tribes, from historic to contemporary. My favorite? A late 18th century to early 19th century Fraser River fish club, ornamented with a human head.

• A late-afternoon shopping trip to Nordstorm, where I saw two women start to tug simultaneously at a deeply discounted purse, only to pause, look at each other, laugh and loosen their grips.

• Dinner at the Dahlia Lounge, showcasing the culinary artistry of chef Tom Douglas, who helped shape modern-day Northwest fine dining. I had the rotisserie-roasted, five-spice Peking duck, and my companion had seared albacore tuna. We weren't disappointed.

Then we walked a few blocks up Pine Street to the Paramount Theater to enjoy the FM 103.7 (The Mountain) Winter Warmth Concert, featuring entertaining performances by two up and coming folk-rockers — Bay Area guitarist Matt Nathanson, followed by the classical music influenced, quirky work of New York native Ingrid Michaelson — and Augustana, a rock band from San Diego that bears a striking musical resemblance to Counting Crows.

And when those acts wrapped up, the headliners hit the stage, ageless Chrissie Hynde and The Pretenders, anchored by longtime drummer Martin Chambers. The Pretenders haven't sounded this good since their 1984 album, "Learning to Crawl."

We were seated in the next-to-last row of the upper balcony but heeded the advice of my sister, a consummate concertgoer and musician by trade, who said, "Don't forget to bring your binoculars."

• A night spent on the 17th floor of the Westin Hotel, where the panoramic view of the Space Needle and Elliot Bay was partly blocked by a high-rise under construction.

After a chilly walk to Pike Place Market on Sunday morning for breakfast at a Bolivian restaurant and some quick Christmas shopping at The Washington Store, we checked out of the hotel, jumped in the car and headed back home to Horsefeathers Farm. We arrived just as big, fat snowflakes started to fall, covering the ground in a blanket of white that just grew and grew and grew over the next 10 days.

As the snow began, we walked next door to the Johnson's Smokehouse U-cut Christmas tree farm, harvested a grand fir and carried it home. How's that for minimizing our carbon footprint?

That's about when the bright holiday memories start to fade away, replaced by:

• Five snowbound days at Horsefeathers Farm, including three vacation days that were supposed to be used for my final Christmas shopping.

• A late-afternoon shopping trip Dec. 23 to Fred Meyer in Tumwater. It took 10 minutes to shop but nearly an hour to get out of a parking lot overwhelmed by lumpy snow and ice and inconsiderate drivers. Dear Fred Meyer store officials: The next time it snows like that during the holiday season, hire some traffic cops to force some sense into your customers.

Christmas was a success because all family members were able — just barely — to negotiate the long private driveway to the farm. The seasoned prime rib from Western Meats in Tumwater was a huge hit at the Christmas dinner table.

The days between Christmas and New Year's Day were a blur of time spent shoveling snow, hauling water from the house to the barn to keep the horse hydrated, burning way more firewood than I have planned for this early in the winter heating season and participating in dicey, nerve-wracking commutes to work.

I was in bed by 10 p.m. on New Year's Eve and spent the first day of 2009 cleaning storm debris from the yard and pasture, bucking up fallen Douglas fir limbs the size of my thigh and neglecting to host a New Year's Day poker party for my buddies for the first time in more than 20 years. I just wasn't in a party mood.

If you haven't figured it out by now, I'm not a big fan of the snow. I'll take 45 degrees and rain over 30 degrees and snow any old Northwest winter.

Needless to say, the thin dusting of snow I woke up to Friday morning prompted me to groan and curse that 2009 was off to a depressing start.

But dawn gave way to a bright blue sky and, later in the day driving north on East Bay Drive, I marveled at the Olympic Mountains so sharply defined and regal-looking in another fresh coat of snow.

Maybe I just need a relaxing, first weekend of the new year to set my mind to rest.

John Dodge is a senior reporter and Sunday columnist for The Olympian. He can be reached at 360-754-5444 or jdodge@theolympian.com.