Primrose Evergreen's Winter Forecast

Hello! It's Darcy again. Back at work and quite happy how business has been handled during my extended Christmas break. I hadn't decided what to write for you but inspiration came after a visit from Primrose Evergreen.

Primrose Evergreen in Upper Mellowdene

Primrose Evergreen is Mellowdene's weather forecaster. I understand she's always had an affinity for meteorological predictions but that has been honed over her life so that her accuracy is uncanny. She regularly travels to Upper Mellowdene to observe Coldmount Peak and records movements of ice particles whirling about the pinnacle. She says this helps her long-range forecasts. I've no reason to dispute that. 

 

Anyway, Primrose had visited to bring me a forecast for the next week, ready for inclusion in the Mellowdene Examiner.

"We're going to get some winter snow, Darcy," she had said. "I'm going to see HHG after I've left here. They'll need the heads up to clear the county roads."

"That bad?"

She nodded as she handed over the forecast report.

"Only a smattering of snow in the village - and that is likely to melt within a couple of hours. But further into the county the snowfall will last longer - two to three days - and as a result it will be deeper and take longer to clear. I'll update you in a few days."

She remained briefly as I went to key the report details into the newspaper's typesetting system.

With Primrose gone my thoughts turned to HHG.

HHG Enterprises' workshops and stores

HHG Enterprises are the brainchild of Magnus Hamilton. Upon moving to Mellowdene this enterprising hamster saw the need for a better organised plan for maintaining the village infrastructure. He also wanted something for his son Huckleberry to take forward should he eventually come to the village; a decision he'd have to make with his fiancée. In the meantime he took on two young partners - Perkin Harvey and Richard Grunt (hence HHG) - and created the company. Whilst these three families form the core of the organisation they have a flexible workforce to service the needs of the village, working closely with the council. Despite the growth of the company, Huck, Perkin and Ritchie were determined that they would not become purely administrators. Their time management ensures they still do plenty paws-on work! At the newspaper, my right-paw critter is Harry Hawthorn and, as Huckleberry Hamilton's brother-in-law, he keeps me updated with HHG's plans.

HHG out on a job

Winter weather provides particular challenges and HHG are prepared to meet them. Although crittizens in the village don't tend to suffer from a cold climate, those living further afield in the county can be affected. Snow cannot be allowed to isolate them. Most live within reach of the three main roads, Mellowdene Road, County Road and Rivercourse Road, so HHG consider it a primary need to keep those roads clear.

HHG clearing some snow

Of course, roads aren't the only routes through the county. Recently, Jackson highlighted our rail connection to the rest of Sylvania. You can be assured that the tracks are always kept clear. Fireglass channels run parallel to the railway lines. The Hunter-Smyth family process this resource in inventive ways and the interaction of rain or snow on a fireglass derivative within those channels keeps the tracks clean, warm and free from ice or snow. The channels are regularly maintained so that the Maple Town Express can keep running to schedule.

 

Reilly Hunter-Smyth takes Formula 4 Fireglass to the rail track

With the main routes clear, we still need to ensure that provisions are accessible to the county dwellers. Fireglass is again used to keep wells from freezing but what about food?

Timbertop Farm, Blackberry Orchards, Buttercup Dairies (with their farming of lactolia plants) all have longstanding plans to combat poor weather. Again, Primrose Evergreen's forecasts give them sufficient notice. 

Bud Timbertop takes out the tractor

Bud shifts some snow

 

Zeb, Taylor and Tyler go shoveling

Tyler Timbertop and Zebediah Cody carry some fireglass

But what about shopping for everyone else?

 

Rocky Babblebrook to the rescue. Rocky is a descendent of our first mayor of Mellowdene, his lineage extending to one of the four founding families of our village. He doesn't share his ancestors' political ambitions. Long ago the Babblebrooks became more concerned about providing food for our villagers. Not everyone can spend their time on farming, fishing and other food production tasks. Babblebrook's Store was born. A few years ago, the store was expanded and rebranded as the Village Supermarket with new managers running the day-to-day business, these being Bert, Joyes and Macey Harvey. Rocky, his father Cliff and uncle Gerald decided that their traditional smaller stores should continue in the form of branches, still bearing the Babblebrook name, peppered about the expanding village. There are three branches in Mellowdene, and one conveniently positioned in the county.

Babblebrook's county store

In bad weather, Rocky not only takes extra care to ensure the county branch of Babblebrook's is well stocked, he is known to take his four-wheel-drive car and personally deliver food to the less accessible homesteads.

 

Rocky and Cliff driving into the county

Rocky on deliveries

 

Actually, Rocky is not alone. There is the community convention where all villagers choose to pile in when there is need. The worst of winter may pose challenges for the county but we are Sylvanians through and through.

o 0 O 0 o

Speaking of the "worst of winter" I had a conversation with Ricardo Porcini about how such conditions affect Chunglewood.

"We don't get snow," he said. "It doesn't get through."

I remembered what Jackson had said about the weird spatial effects above the forest. Rain didn't have a direct path downwards to the clearing, resulting in patchy but predictable irrigated areas and even one sky cascade. There were sky pools too.

"Right," I replied. "The barrier thing. But don't the sky pools ever freeze over? Snow settling and blocking out light?"

Ricardo laughed. "I'd never thought of that. It does sound reasonable now that you mention it. But no, we don't see that happening. The sky lightens a bit from time to time and we get cold rain, that's all."

"Could the barrier be melting it?"

 

"Darcy, you do ask some crazy questions. Maybe it does. We don't think about it. In fact I don't remember snow ever coming up in conversation. Nobody's seen it since they left the Woodzeez realm. Except me, of course. With me able to leave Chunglewood and travel around Sylvania, I've witnessed my fair share of snowy landscapes. Saw a blizzard once."

Ricardo's words made me think. The Chunglewood villagers were still reticent to leave the clearing - for whatever reason, and I have my suspicions - so how would they react seeing a blanket of winter snow after well over a decade of being sheltered from the excess of weather?

Maybe they'd better stay cloistered until Primrose Evergreen gives a favourable weather forecast!

o 0 O 0 o

The Maple Town Express

 

Brendan had been helping me - to a fashion - singing along to a new composition that Chris Snow-Warren and I had been creating. We had been engaged to write a school song and Brendan was having fun altering the words. My boy's inventiveness was making me laugh and we must have sounded terrible. Not to everyone, though.

"I like that!"

 

We turned to see Hughie Grunt and Nolly Persis; Nolly had been jigging to the music. In fact he was still jigging and humming the tune after I'd stopped playing the piano.

Hughie nudged Nolly to stop.

"What?" said Nolly. "The words are funny."

The boys were expected. Brendan went to greet them.

"Hi, crits," he said. "Don't settle down. There's been a change of plan. We're playing at Lucky's house. He's got a new climbing frame in his garden."

"Should be good," said Hughie, giving Brendan a playful push. "I guess you have something in mind.'

 

"Oh!" said Brendan. "What's that smell, Hugh? A sort of spicy orange!"

Nolly laughed. "I told him he ponged."

Hughie closed his eyes. It was clear he'd had this conversation before. With a sigh he explained in a monotone.

"It's not a pong. It's supposed to be sophisticated."

At this, Nolly clamped a paw over his mouth, suppressing a guffaw. 

Hughie ignored this and carried on. "I've been visiting my Uncle Frey. He'd just finished washing after work and was putting on his eau de cologne..."

"Oaty clown," giggled Nolly.

"...as he likes to smell nice," Hughie continued, determined not to be distracted. "You see, Brendan, his job can get a bit stinky handling concentrated fireglass."

"On the train," nodded Brendan.

"Right. Anyway, my Uncle sprinkled a bit of his eau de cologne..."

"Oaty clown."

"...on my paw, as a joke."  

 

"Well, it does smell funny," said Brendan, winking at Nolly. "Anyway, come on. Let's make a move. Let Lucky sniff you and give him a laugh."

"You're rotten, you two," smiled Hughie.

"But you love us," said Brendan as he escorted his pals towards the door. "Bye, dad."

Alone at last, I pondered over the boys' conversation. Frey Grunt. An apt name, albeit coincidentally. Frey drives the Maple Town Express and is also responsible for controlling the fuel that powers the engine. Concentrated fireglass can get smelly when ignited. No wonder Frey is sensitive to the stench and wants to mask the odour with his cologne.

 

All of which reminds me. I've never mentioned the Maple Town Express before.

o 0 O 0 o

Yes, we do have a train that comes to Mellowdene. It's just that it hasn't come up in conversation before now. I've undoubtedly mentioned that we've got riverboats at our docks, a canal following the edge of the foothills, and roads that continue out of the county through woodland or across the river bridge. You can now add a railway line to that list.

The track was laid in order that Mellowdene could be connected to the Sylvanian Rail Network. This is run by a company that has its origins in Maple Town. They have major stations all over Sylvania and they call these hubs. The nearest hub to us is beyond the boundary of Mellowdene County and there was an agreement - some years ago - to run a single rail track from that hub into our county all the way to our train station, Lucerne Halt. There is a solitary train that uses the track - Maple Town Express Number Five - and after visiting the station it loops back to return along the same track.

The station is just outside the village and it is managed by Station Master Diesel Traynor. I've mentioned Dock Lane before; my home street of Dandelion Lane connects with it. Well, Dock Lane extends to the crossroads at the Village Circle. If you ignore the left turnoff towards the canal and the right turnoff that is Mellowdene High Street and continue straight on, the road changes its name to Lucerne Road. It is on this road you'll find Pickleweed's Pizza Emporium but stifle your appetite and carry on past the Mews and you will exit the village. Lucerne Road bends to the right and eventually joins up with County Road. En route you will find Lucerne Halt.

Although Lucerne Halt is the terminus for the Maple Town Express, there is another train stop within the county. This is shortly before the line pierces the woodland at our border. Sometimes our Cornflower relatives will seek an alternative to their pony and trap, walking to Greenwood Station and catching the "Number Five" to reach the village. It must be said that Greenwood Station is an exaggerated name - it merely comprises a small shelter besides the platform. 

Maple Town is rightly proud of the Sylvanian Rail Network and you'll often find representatives of the town will move to any place their railway reaches. We have some descendents of Maple Towners living here. Most live on a crescent called Mapleton Road. I wonder if the road builders had any association with the railroad construction? Merlin would probably know.   

It is a while since I travelled on the Maple Town Express. Given Hughie Grunt's family connection to the train I wonder how long it will be until Brendan wants to go on a railway journey?

o 0 O 0 o  

 

    

    

Hot and Cold

Have you ever wondered how Mellowdene got its name? Probably not, but I'll tell you anyway. There may be some who are curious! It's not an obscure reason; pretty boring, in fact. Still, here goes. We’re in a dene - a valley - where the river is the lowest point. One side of the river is more wooded, so the village was established at the other side. We are protected from the extremes of weather, being cradled by that woodland and by the nearby mountains. As such, the climate is mellow. Simple, really.

Having said this, as you move further from the village, towards the edge of Mellowdene County, following the canal towards Catsholme and the break in the mountains that leads to Acorn Valley, the protection reduces somewhat. You're more likely to encounter snow in winter, for example, and that sometimes creeps towards the village. I guess Nigel Snow-Warren will be glad of his skidoo to skim across the blanket of snow when he visits Tara Lapine-Frost...

Why mention this at all? It's because, even though we're blessed with mellow weather most of the time, there can be rare exceptions. Like now. We’re in a heatwave. 

 

 

o 0 O 0 o

"I'll die if I don't get an ice cream," said Brendan. My son was overacting, panting from unnecessary exertion in the garden.

"Don't exaggerate, dear," said Cecile. "Drink some water."

"I need cold."

"The water's cold."

"It has to be really cold!"

Cecile part filled a glass, went to the refrigerator and added two ice cubes from the freezer section. She peered inside before closing the door. Handing the glass to Brendan - not a totally satisfied Brendan, it must be said - she turned to me.

"The freezer indicator says it needs refreshing. It's due to expire in a couple of weeks."

 

I nodded, purposely ignoring the slurping noises emanating from Brendan as he tried to suck an ice cube without freezing his cheeks. "We're on the Polaris's books," I said, "They'll deliver as normal."

 

"Most probably. But if this heat continues, they may busier than normal. Just look at Brendan. The demand for ice - and ice cream - may deplete their resources. I'd be happier if we got our coolsalt ahead of time. Just to be sure."

 

"You think we should pay them a call?"

"Take Brendan with you. He'll find it interesting."

Brendan looked at us both, mouth still slightly open as he jiggled the shrinking ice cube inside. He said something but his words were incomprehensible to me. Not to Cecile.

 

"I know your friends are due. Take them with you."

o 0 O 0 o

I'm not a total fool. Despite there being a small road up to the Polaris's manufacturing plant in the mountains, walking there in this weather would be inadvisable. I'd been there before. Cecile  hadn't. The Polaris family also have a distribution centre lower in the foothills. That is more accessible, but it is only open when they have scheduled deliveries. A phone call would give me the necessary information. When someone would be there and have the coolsalt for us to collect.

Maybe you don't have coolsalt in your human world. It's marvellous stuff but it needs experts to produce it. We have an extended family of polar bars to do this for our village. Their tolerance of extreme temperatures makes them the ideal people to cater to our refrigeration needs. Coolsalt.

Coolsalt is created by the combination of particular minerals. Ground down, combined in the correct proportions, fused together in convenient blocks, they seem to suck the heat out of their vicinity. All done in a predictable way. They power our fridges, allow cold rooms to be built and assist in various manufacturing processes. Our mountains have a ready supply of these minerals and the Polaris family bring everything together.

 

I made the necessary phone call and Mary Polaris answered.

"Polaris Cold Store. How may I help?"

 

"Oh hi, Mary. It's Jackson Butterglove. I know we've got a coolsalt delivery soon but we thought we might collect it early, when your foothill place is open."

"Oh, rightio. Let's look..." She went silent for a few seconds. "Due in two weeks... right. Is there a problem with your current block of coolsalt? Not keeping things cool enough?"

 

"No, it's fine. We thought that you might be getting busy if the weather stays as it is, and that.."

"I see. Actually, that could work out quite well for us. Paul and Peter have some new mineral seams to check out... but you don't need to know that," she said, laughing. "You know how to replace the block?"

"Break off the small end bit, leave that in the fridge to keep it cool, bring the rest back to you for an exchange. Put the new block in the fridge and keep the old end bit safe until next time."

"And wear gloves."

"Oh yes, of course."

"Right. Well, we'll be at the distribution centre this afternoon if you can make it. We can update the schedule then."

"Smashing. Is it okay if I bring my boy and his pals?"

"Of course! Arlo will be delighted to see them."  

o 0 O 0 o

In the heat of the day, the walk to the foothills was hot work. We kept to the shadows when we could, but even out of the sun we took it easy. Brendan, Nolly and Hughie did not race about as they may have done under different conditions.

Hughie dropped back to walk beside me.

"Mr Butterglove? Have you ever known it to be so hot?"

I pondered. "Around twenty years ago, we had about ten days very hot weather like this. The Polaris family business was smaller then, but we were glad of their support. They were overworked, though. Afterwards, the village helped them to set up a more efficient system. At the time, it was quite advanced. My brother had connections with the Sylvanian Research Group and I understood they helped."

"So it's better for Arlo and his family now?"

"It seems so. I went to the plant once. Lots of machinery to help mix the coolsalt. And they have delivery bikes when they didn't before."

Brendan and Nolly joined us. "Nolly's just seen Mister Polaris on his bike," said Brendan.

"We must be nearly there," said Nolly.

We were.

o 0 O 0 o

The last part of our trek was telling. I was wondering if I'd been foolish after all, walking in such heat, and with the children. Also, we still had the journey back. I was again checking to see Brendan and his friends were okay when I heard someone call out. It was Mary Polaris. She half ran towards us.

 

"Oh, Mister Butterglove, I'm so sorry. I thought you'd be driving here. It was only when Paul told me you don't have a car..."

"Don't concern yourself, and it's Jackson - not Mister Butterglove," I said. I didn't want her feeling guilty over my mistake. "We'll be fine. Although we may hang on a while to cool down and delay walking back, if that's okay."

"Of course. You will be overheated. Come inside where it's cooler."

 

 

And it was cooler. As one might expect, their buildings made judicious use of coolsalt blocks to make their interiors the optimum temperature. Mary even opened a freezer cabinet and gave us snow-cones, topped with our choice of fruit juices.

 

"It's much appreciated, Mary. I'd misjudged how hot it was."

"Paul thought as much. He's out back with his brother, putting some blocks in the storage sheds. He shouldn't be long. He wants to have a word with you."

"Oh, fine," I said, enjoying my snow cone after the heat of the journey. The children, of course, were groaning with pleasure as the fruity ice trickled down their throats.

 

 

Mary was laughing at their enjoyment, and perhaps this made her think about her son.

"Which reminds me, Arlo's back there too. He was happy when I told him your boy and his friends were coming. Maybe they'd like to go through? He'll be in the room next to the sheds, and they can take their cones with them."

 

Brendan looked at me.

"It's okay, son. Go on."

 

The three boys stirred themselves and walked in the indicated direction. Nolly lifted his almost depleted snow-cone and smiled at Mary Polaris. "Thanks!"

We watched them go. Nolly's smile had infected both me and Mary. "What a nice little lad," she said.

"He is. Both Nolly and Hughie became friends with Brendan when they attended Kittie Camp together."

If Mary was going to respond she didn't get the chance, as we were joined by Peter and Paul Polaris, fresh from their endeavours.

"Hi Jackson!" called Paul.

"Warm enough for you?" laughed Peter.

"Yes," nodded Paul, "I couldn't believe it when Mary said you were coming in this weather."

"You could have just asked for an earlier coolsalt delivery," said Peter. "I'll be taking the bike into the village later, and it wouldn't have caused any problems adding you to my route."

I admitted that I didn't think of that.

 

"Ah, never mind," said Peter, "as it will give us time to chat. Let the boys play a while whilst you tell us the latest on this musical of yours..."

o 0 O 0 o

 

We had a good chat. I realised that the Polaris family didn't get as much chance to socialise as most, given they worked and lived in the mountains. Peter and Paul saw people when they were out on deliveries but those would be brief interactions. Barbara would see other mothers at the nursery when taking little Beth, and when either she or Mary would take Julia and Arlo to school, but none of these shouted "social life." I felt that needed remedying. They were good company.

"Tell you what," I said, "We need to arrange for you all to come to our house. I know Cecile and Eliza would enjoy chatting with you ladies. Bring the children. Merlin likes to cook for dinner parties and he won't need much persuasion. It will be fun to have a good old chin wag."

 

 

Peter was in agreement, and as he spoke, his brother looked at him. "He's right, you know, Paul. Work may be rewarding, but we need to get out more."

 

Paul nodded rapidly. "Yes. Definitely." He twisted to look towards the rear door. "Talking about getting out, I think we should get out and see what the boys are doing."

o 0 O 0 o

Going outside, the heat hit me like a pillow in one of Beverley's pillow fights with Biddy.

The Polaris brothers led me past a large shed, its metal walls streaming with condensation. This was obviously where the coolsalt blocks were stored prior to delivery.

 

The water was dripping, accumulating into shallow tanks before it drained away by unseen means. At the far side of the shed was a smaller adjoining structure, and we walked around towards an opening. Peter directed me towards this building, telling me the children would be inside. The brothers lingered and I carried on alone. 

 

As I approached, something shot out towards me, hitting me full inthe face.

 

My shock was short-lived when I realised it was a snowball. I heard Brendan's familiar laughter.

"Got you then, dad!" he said, emerging from the opening, beckoning me forward. "Come see this!"

Brushing the light snow (snow?) from my face, feeling the melting slush slide under my collar, I turned towards my chuckling son and looked inside the small building. Peter and Paul rejoined me, both grinning.

 

 

Towards the back, a mound of snow covered the floor from wall to wall. Nolly, Hughie and Arlo were adding finishing touches to a snowman. Hughie saw me and waved.

"Isn't this amazing?" the young pig shouted, his face pink with the cold.

 

 

Peter and Paul were still grinning. "Thought we might see a snowball," Paul said, not trying to hide his amusement.

"How...?" I said, indicating the snowscape.

"Water vapour, positioning of coolsalt blocks, a bit of engineering," said Paul. "It's Arlo's playroom."

"Oh." What else I could I say? Actually, I did say something once I'd processed what I was seeing. Unusual rather than profound. "I suppose making your own winter is handy in a heatwave."

o 0 O 0 o

We watched the children continue to play for a while longer. Peter disappeared, but Paul stayed to chat. When Peter returned he nodded towards his brother who reciprocated in kind. Paul explained.

"Rather than load up his bike for the coolsalt deliveries he's loaded up our car. He'll give you and the boys a lift back to the village."

I thanked him but he waved away my gratitude. "It's a pleasure, Jackson. I've enjoyed having you here. And you've reminded us that we need to socialise more. We've been working so much that we're in danger of neglecting the other needs of  our families."

I reiterated the invitation for a family visit to our house. I suspected Cecile would be pleased that I'd thought to do this. Either way, Peter certainly did. Looked pleased, that is.

"Sounds great, eh Paul?"

"It does, brother. Oh, and don't forget to attend to Jackson's fridge when you go."

 

Peter nodded then glanced at the boys who had moved on to have a snowball fight. "I suppose I'd better break this up before they get completely covered in snow..."

 

 

o 0 O 0 o

The car journey home was pleasant. Fitted with coolsalt temperature control, clearly.

 

 

As Peter Polaris drove away, fridge maintenance done, Cecile hugged me.

"Lovely of you to invite them, Jack. And I'm sorry about sending you out walking to their place in this heat. I don't know what I was thinking."

I kissed her. "Maybe you were being enigmatic."

She laughed. "I doubt it. Perhaps we could blame it on the weather."

"I hope not. Peter says we'll have two or three more days like this. Goodness knows where you'd send us."

"Ha! Idiot. Good job I bought some ice cream whilst you were out. Beverley will be pleased, of course. I thought Brendan would too, but he's too busy fantasising about snowball fights. What will our boy imagine next?"

"Ah, yes. About that..."

o 0 O 0 o