Before the last snowstorm Ben spent a huge amount of time getting things all ready so that we could be prepared for joyous activities like getting snowed in or losing power. The house was filled with water tubs waiting in ready. He cleaned all the lingering ice out of the tubs in use out in the barn. We chop holes in the ice so the critters can drink several times a day, but the ice that builds up on the sides eventually becomes so thick that the volume that the tub can hold is diminished. Ben cleaned all those out. He stocked hay outside so all the Beefers had food and made sure there was room in their barn so they could all fit in without being chased out by the landlord's horses. In short, he got things seriously ready.
We got lucky and only lost power for a few hours (no biggie), but we got PLENTY of snow. We chopped frozen water tubs and gave the pigs extra hay to sleep in. I shoveled out the side door to the barn, and cleared out the water for the beefers, cursing the blasted snow that was filling my boots from the top eventhough they were tucked in under my overalls. Everyone inside the barn was all snuggled in and munching on their feed or playing the the floating ice in their water. The pigs were fighting over who got to lay on the bottom of the pig pile, the calves were sleeping. In short they were happy. The wind whistled and the snow came down. I decided to check on the outside group.
I barely could cram myself through the dang blasted not-so-slidey door that was already snowed back in half an hour after I shoveled it out. I began hiking up to the other barn through the drifts, snow crusting on my eyelashes. It reminded me of a chapter I read once in one of my Little House on the Prairie books when I was a kid, where Pa had tied a rope between the house and the barn so that he could get to the barn without getting lost in the blizzard. It crossed my mind that that was pretty good idea, and I wish I had thought of it sooner, impractical as it was for us where we had to drive the skid steer through there regularly. I was beginning to worry about the outside group as I trudged through the snow.
Usually I can see most of them from the "sliding" door, but it was blowing and drifting hard enough that I could barely make out the hulking shape of the upper barn even from half way up to it, let alone any cows. I hoped they were all snuggled inside and cozy. Mumma cow is a pretty good leader and I hoped she had mandated that they all stay inside.
I finally crested the last drift and saw that everyone was absolutely fine. I was cold and crabby and sweaty and sick of shoveling out that stupid "slidey" door. The cows, however, CHOSE to be outside in that mess! They were eating peacefully out in the northern wind with snow caked on their faces from the gusts. Nobody shivered. Nobody cried. Everyone was 100% fine.
Its incredible the things that don't phase our cattle. They have long hair and were warm enough despite the snow and the wind. They have a perfectly good barn to go in as they please, yet they choose to stand outdoors. They looked at me like I was crazy for being worried about them, so I told them halfheartedly and insincerely to go inside before they caught their death of cold. I patted Mumma, Fiona and LuLu and made my way back toward the main barn, wishing for Pa Ingles' rope once again.
We got lucky and only lost power for a few hours (no biggie), but we got PLENTY of snow. We chopped frozen water tubs and gave the pigs extra hay to sleep in. I shoveled out the side door to the barn, and cleared out the water for the beefers, cursing the blasted snow that was filling my boots from the top eventhough they were tucked in under my overalls. Everyone inside the barn was all snuggled in and munching on their feed or playing the the floating ice in their water. The pigs were fighting over who got to lay on the bottom of the pig pile, the calves were sleeping. In short they were happy. The wind whistled and the snow came down. I decided to check on the outside group.
I barely could cram myself through the dang blasted not-so-slidey door that was already snowed back in half an hour after I shoveled it out. I began hiking up to the other barn through the drifts, snow crusting on my eyelashes. It reminded me of a chapter I read once in one of my Little House on the Prairie books when I was a kid, where Pa had tied a rope between the house and the barn so that he could get to the barn without getting lost in the blizzard. It crossed my mind that that was pretty good idea, and I wish I had thought of it sooner, impractical as it was for us where we had to drive the skid steer through there regularly. I was beginning to worry about the outside group as I trudged through the snow.
Usually I can see most of them from the "sliding" door, but it was blowing and drifting hard enough that I could barely make out the hulking shape of the upper barn even from half way up to it, let alone any cows. I hoped they were all snuggled inside and cozy. Mumma cow is a pretty good leader and I hoped she had mandated that they all stay inside.
I finally crested the last drift and saw that everyone was absolutely fine. I was cold and crabby and sweaty and sick of shoveling out that stupid "slidey" door. The cows, however, CHOSE to be outside in that mess! They were eating peacefully out in the northern wind with snow caked on their faces from the gusts. Nobody shivered. Nobody cried. Everyone was 100% fine.
Its incredible the things that don't phase our cattle. They have long hair and were warm enough despite the snow and the wind. They have a perfectly good barn to go in as they please, yet they choose to stand outdoors. They looked at me like I was crazy for being worried about them, so I told them halfheartedly and insincerely to go inside before they caught their death of cold. I patted Mumma, Fiona and LuLu and made my way back toward the main barn, wishing for Pa Ingles' rope once again.