I awoke today to the calm after the storm. Snow drifts lay piled three to four feet high, shining in all their glory--the effects of the worst storm of this winter in Wisconsin, so far. What last afternoon and evening was the tremendous howling of wind and whiteout conditions of snowfall, now lay in silence; with only the occasional chirping of the chickadees, junkos and cardinals at the snow-ladened bird feeders breaking the peaceful dawn.
After casting a look outside at this snowy abyss, my stalwart husband proceeded with the morning watering of the pigs and lighting of the outdoor wood stove. He was led by our cocker spaniel, Mocha, who trail-blazed through the mounds of deep snow, and was further accompanied by one of our german shepherds watching out for him in the new landscape. He plunged into the whiteness, and came back 20 minutes later, covered with snow from head to foot due to misjudging a drift, and tumbling into it.
Later in the morning, I repeated the hog watering with the faithful dogs by my side. The pigs were more interested in playing in and eating snow, than worrying about the warm water I poured for them. They hopped and squealed and rooted in the snow drifts within their pen.
My next morning chore was to remove the six inches of snow and ice from the solar panels on our farm. Plodding slowly and carefully through the mounds of cresting white waves sculpted by lasts nights wind, I made my way to the panel framework across the yard. It took genuine effort to remove the caked snow and underlying ice from the slick black surface. As the snow chunks fell toward the ground, my companion, our older shepherd, jumped around, biting at them in the air whilst barking joyously.
Pigs watered and panels cleared, I headed back to the warmth of our home. There, I relished the warmed floor in our kitchen while drinking steaming hot tea. This is living!
Organic farmer, artist, and mother of four--this fabulous woman has seen it all.