22 December 2022
Not Fun Anymore
This officially isn’t fun anymore.
The sun is shining, but without warmth or kindness. It lights the sky so we can see, but no more than that.
The wind is howling, whipping up the powder dry snow that falls when it is too cold for real snow containing moisture. The snow bites at any exposed skin, leaving it just damp enough to freeze quickly under a layer of ice.
My pickup gave up yesterday. One vehicle would start this morning. It has been running ever since. Walking to and from the quanset trying to get things running and cattle fed would be a death march.
Actual temps right now are 17 below zero, farenheight. Did you know that 40 below is the same farenheight or celcious? The windchill is 45 below.
It’s a wonder any of the animals made the night. I have doubts about Popcorn having made it this far without her blanket. She had ice frozen to her chin like a goatee and was moving slow when I grained them this morning. The calves were shivering. Hunched against the cold.
The beef herd is huddled in their windbreak, hungry and waiting for us to feed them. The feed truck started, eventually. It died a couple of times but I made it to the bunks. Cows came running looking for their breakfast. They were willing to brave the wind for alfalfa and corn.
Then the truck died.
The guilt I felt feeling the hopeful eyes of the cows on me as I walked away. So close to getting them food, but so far.
The payloader wouldn’t even try. My husband is out there working on it now.
The children haven’t been out of pajamas for a couple of days now. I keep thinking I should make them get dressed. But why? They don’t need to go out into this. Nothing should have to.
My hindquarters are beginning to thaw. It’s time to get dressed again. My husband has been out there awhile. Need to make sure he hasn’t froze solid. I want to try to dig a path through one of the drifts so I can get things into the barn. it’s not warmer in there but maybe with all the milk cows and calved huddled together they could raise the temp a bit and get a break from the wind.
We are lucky. I’m not complaining. We have neighbors who have lots power. Others with family snowed in far from home, or at home. Or cows have hay left over from yesterday and are well sheltered. The horses have plenty of hay. We are all here together. Life is still good.