Snow!

Another pile of global warming is outside my front window. Snow is always one of those double-edged swords. I love it. I love playing in it, looking at it, I love all the paraphernalia. The hats, and mittens, the boots, the hot chocolate (especially the hot chocolate!) the sleds, I love it all! (Except maybe skis. Never could handle those buggers.)

But, of course, there's a downside. Someone's gotta get all that white stuff out of the way so you can drive to the sled hill, to the store to buy chocolate, and, yes, I suppose, to work. Now, our Someone, Farmer John, grew up in the UP, where snowfall, apparently, isn't measured until it's in the double digits. He asserts that we don't get enough snow here to worry about clearing it. But I wonder, after 30+ years of living "here in the South," why he hasn't picked up on the different quality of our snow? It's usually wet and heavy, as opposed to the soft, powdery stuff he speaks of. So clearing it can be a bit of a problem.

We have a snowblower. It's a decent one, but it has it's issues. Farmer John hasn't always dealt with those issues in a timely manner, citing our "lack of measurable snowfall" as reason to not stress about rebuilding a snowblower carburetor. Instead, he leaves that up to his minions, who shovel and pile and sometimes write uncomplimentary blog posts about him.

But the Main Minion is down and out for about 6 weeks. The Stormtrooper boots aren't made for the snow, sadly, and so I worried about how to get this job done today.

Enter Desi, our neighbor across the street. Although we seldom talk to our neighbors, the country being that way, sometimes, he will always show up after (what we call) a measurable snowfall with his trusty Bobcat. In minutes, our driveway is cleared. It saves the minions hours of shoveling and cussing. And it's something we're very, very thankful for. Later this evening, I'll have John take him a Peterman Pastured Turkey in thanks. And maybe an adult beverage...

O Come, O Come, Emmanuel

My favorite Advent hymn.



Thanks to my friend, Kay Maiwald, for pointing out this version.

Saturday Farm Report

It's a cold but sunny day on the farm today. It's about 14 degrees, and we're headed all the way up to 19. Some flurries are expected, but there's not a cloud in the sky, so, we'll see.

We've been adopted by a new kitty. Burr is a young female, with a lovely black coat, a bob tail and a notched ear. Mary was able to live-trap her yesterday, so she went in for a rabies shot, a deworming and as much of a checkup as you can do on a feral cat! It was enough to ascertain that she's female, which we had guessed. It's likely that the notched ear means she was trapped before, spayed, and then released as part of a TNR program. She was uncooperative enough that it was impossible to find a spaying scar, but she is at least feline-leukemia-negative and vaccinated against that, distemper and rabies. I can let Mary pet her now! We're really happy to have her. Our outside cat, Dinah, is getting old enough that she likes to hunker down for the winter. Burr has moved into what used to be rat tunnels under our chicken house, so that should move them on to other, less feline-infested fields! She seems to be a decent hunter, and not totally unfriendly. She lets Mary touch her, and follows Mary around during chores, "talking" to keep her company. She must have had some human contact in the past. I just hope we haven't been adopted by someone's beloved kitty!

(I know some will wonder about taking a feral cat to the vet. I don't feel comfortable having animals on our farm like cats or dogs that aren't protected against, at the very least, rabies. That's just the kinda farmer I am. While she was there, it wasn't that much more money to have her tested and vaccinated for feline leukemia and distemper. In the future, I'll do those shots myself.)

Today Farmer John headed off for paying work, and Mary is waiting on her invalid mother. We are watching movies and playing in the cyberworld. Some laundry will be done, and I'll be teaching her to make homemade pizza later this afternoon. I'd like to do some Christmas shopping, meaning pick out some things and send minions to pick them up. We'll see how that plays out!

Doctor Visit

Headed in this morning to see how things are. This is how they look.



The pain has been infrequent and manageable. There is far less swelling than they're used to seeing, so I guess sitting on my...couch has been a good idea. I see him again in 10 days, and I'll have the Stormtrooper boots for at least 6 weeks. And I plan to be a good patient, so I have my feet in tip-top shape when I need them in May for Europe.

You can see the surgeon's initials on my feet. I told him that my mother always told me not to write on myself with marker, but he told me that doctors are allowed. Yeah, right!!

The Day After

Well, bunion surgery completed. Bunion surgery recovery begun...

So far, so good. Had some really strange dreams last night, no doubt helped along by the drugs they had given me. The pain is far less than I was led to expect. It started last night, and having been told that my doctor "really numbs up his patients," I was nervous. It wasn't bad, but I was concerned that I was still numb and would hurt more as time went on. But, this morning, I was able to walk around pretty well. The boots help; they're solid, but have rocker bottoms to help with a natural gait. On the other hand, sometimes I felt like one of those punching clowns. Specifically, like I was going to rock backwards and land on my back! But I think I've gotten used to it.

I've spent today sitting/lying on the sofa, letting my minions get me what I need. Mary has been a great help. John, too. Poor guy. He got about 3 hours of sleep last night, because of me, and then headed out for a full day of work. Mary's got some sinus crud, and complained a bit about going out in the cold for the horses. But she's also been doing laundry and making me coffee and lunch. And she and I watched a chick flick this afternoon.

Tomorrow I'll go to the doc and see them unwrapped for the first time. Want pictures? I'll leave it up to you!

Before...And After

6:45am



2:30pm

A Ride in the Country

This morning we woke at dark thirty to take a ride in the country.

But first, we had to cuss and swear because the alarm, which should have been set for 5:30am, was set for 5:30PM. So we woke up at 6:45am, more than an hour late.

Then we had to cuss and swear because middle-aged bones and muscles are not excited about getting out of a nice, warm, flannel-sheeted bed into 66 degree air to dress for 6-8 degree air.

Then we had to cuss and swear because we realized we could not drive the truck into the backyard, due to snow.

Then we cussed and swore some more as we caught and carried 25 chickens from their huts to the back of the pickup. And some more, as they flapped their chubby little wings in protest. One caught me right good on the ear. I swore.

Guess what we did when we realized we'd made a wrong turn?

And when we realized that the roads we found ourselves on were still nasty from this weekends snowpocalypse?

Yes, we cussed and swore when we realized that we were later...and later...and later...than we planned, which was arranged around the schedule of our chicken butcher, who is NOT a nice man when people show up on time, much less late. Something about killing hundreds of flapping, living beings makes him grouchy on Kill Day.

But, you know, I've never heard him cuss and swear.

In the end, though, our chickens were delivered, and dispatched. Tomorrow, while I slumber in an operating room, our (dead) chickens will be picked up by our youngest son and deposited in our freezer.

I imagine he'll cuss and swear about something. He has such good role models!