1. On the weather (of course). I knew it was cold when…
-my nostrils froze shut.
-ice chunks floated like little islands in the bulk (milk) tank shortly after milking time.
-I found a little bird that had taken refuge in the wood pile, frozen solid.
-I decided to wait until the temperature “warmed up” to 0 before heading out to do the chores.
2. On chickens: I recognized with some pleasure that the early chicken checker does not get the eggs because these chickens are not morning birds. (Ha. I can so identify. I’m not exactly an early bird either.) One warm egg appears every morning, and the rest I usually find after 4pm. I was feeling very smug about letting that fake white egg out in the hen house (although there was that brief moment of wonder…) until I realized I was gently washing the fake brown one. |
I was reminded that I live between (at least) two worlds as I read a text message from another continent while standing in the (Amish) neighbor’s milk house. (No picture...)
It’s such a pleasure to take home that glass jug filled with frothy ice cold milk …the accompanying smell in hair/coat/clothes…not so much. It continues to amaze me that something so fresh and wonderful tasting can come from come from such a malodorous source. Ditto with the chickens. (Do you think it was Adam or Eve who first suggested, “Hey, let’s eat the next thing that comes out of the back end of that bird…” But I digress. Sort of.)
She doesn’t seem to know that SNMD…or that I’m not her human. She watchfully patrols the entire Hickory Lane area; property lines do not apply. She is more protective than usual when my Farmer is away, so to the kind person that plowed the driveway Sunday morning to continuous barking: thank you and sorry, but SNMD.
She is so exuberant; I can’t help but love her. The cold weather doesn’t bother her, she cavorts in the snow like a seal in the surf, and she reminds me to enjoy life along the way.
It's just hard to stay annoyed with a dog that enjoys life to this extent.
Even in the snow.
On a colder than cold winter day.
Or night.
Like last night.
I knew the weather forecast predicted temperatures to drop to ten below zero by morning, which meant adding more wood to the furnace.
But it was late,
-as in, really dark out there!!-
and the thermometer still said plain old ten degrees which isn't exactly balmy, but I could not imagine the chill plunging another 20 degrees in a few hours. Plus I had filled the wood furnace a few hours earlier, at dusk.
My feet were (warm) in the house and they wanted to stay there, but no, I trudged to the furnace with flashlight in hand, through what seemed like pitch darkness.
piece by piece,
and then paused to look around (and catch my breath!)
The snow covered pasture seemed to radiate pale blue light,
and overhead, stars shimmered,
chips of sparkling glass splashed across the night sky.
I didn’t need the flashlight when I returned to the house since my eyes had “adjusted” to the natural light surrounding me.
I was grateful for a glimpse of breath taking beauty,
right there, right here, where my feet are.
Beside the woodpile.