That White Stuff

Today was Day Eight of the 2013 Almost'a Ice Storm.  Paul has been working 12 hour shifts so has been taking the dually to work, so he could get to work.  That leaves Rhiannon and I with the red shoebox.  Which is still frozen solid to the icy driveway.  Grandma, however, couldn't go eight days without seeing her only granddaughter so she braved the main roads (which, although greatly improved, were still nothing one would want to go out in if one didn't have to) and parked up the hill from the house, trudged through the ice-crusted snow with the Sloppy Dog at her side, and helped Rhiannon and I put up Christmas decorations.

It has been a pretty easy storm as far as ice storms go.  I had plenty of time to prepare and even if I desperately needed something, Paul could have picked it up on his way home from work the second day when stores were opened again.  There's plenty of food in the house, still enough grain for the animals, and thankfully we didn't lose power.

Rhiannon has been enjoying all the snow and she even went sledding for the first time in her life:

Yes, that's my daughter sliding down the hill on a scoop shovel.

And on to the big hill!

Hold on, little girl!

Hillbilly, we most certainly are.  But YOU try finding a place that sells sleds around here.  Water toys a-plenty, but slim pickings when it comes to winter sports.  Golf can still be played here in the winter; and occasionally while wearing a short-sleeved shirt.

Yesterday was the first day I bothered to wear anything other than sweatpants and a sweatshirt.  It's not like anybody was going to come down here and the goats don't so much care if I'm wearing fifteen year old Hanes sweatpants with holes in unmentionable areas as long as I keep the hay and grain coming.   Today I felt a little more human and actually donned a pair of nice jean and a Christmas'ie sweater and put on some makeup!  I'm sure Mom was relieved.

The snow and ice has melted significantly, but with our daytime temps only in the lower 30's, it's slow going.  And before it can even disappear from the landscape, we're forecast for some more freezing rain tomorrow night.  Which means another weekend will go by with Paul having to work 12 hour shifts.

The critters are all doing fine despite this white hell they're having to live though.  I even went up with Paul in the dually yesterday to see Ms. Melman and Nugget.  Chickens have finally moved out from underneath the barn but are still sticking to the paths made by my shoveling or those made by the passing of numerous goat feet.  I'm still having to chop ice out of the water buckets every morning, but today I refused to bring out more than one bucket of warm water since the stock tanks weren't freezing up during the daylight hours.  Horrible, I know. Call PETA on me.  I'd like to see them careening their butts down the icy hill and crash into a stand of cedars; I need a good laugh.