In came the new year and it found us on the farm. We wanted to be in the place we want to be, so we packed up the truck and headed down to our “Farm in Progress”. By the time we hit Olympia the first flakes of snow started flying. The cab filled with giggles. Visions of the massive (and still ongoing) cleanup from last year’s ice storm danced through our heads. Planting trees in unexpected flurries and forsaking our tent for a motel six last February got the giggles going even more.
Now we have a travel trailer, aging heater, and even a generator. We can stay indefinitely, or until the propane runs out anyway.
First stop was Buzz’s house to drop off some hand dipped chocolates, a jar of goat caramel, and some hard cider. Buzz sold us the farm, and his daughter S built our road and helped us every time we needed it. She got a bag of goodies too. We visited awhile and headed back to the homestead, S and her husband J wanted to swing by later.
Up our magnificent road we rumbled, stopped at the top so I could walk out and test the dirt for squish factor. I deemed it solid enough to let our truck pass. Shifted into four wheel drive and roared out into the muck. … And stopped.
I was wrong. Oh well, get the jack, get some logs… But do it quick before S and J showed up. Too late.
J was all grins, “what were you thinking?”.
“I was thinking I could make it”, sez I.
Out come my recovery straps and J, in an identical Ford pulls me back to solid ground.
Later that night after walking our snowy property, we settled in for endless games of bananagrams, L reading aloud from Bill Mollison’s book, and tea. The little heater ran full time but we stayed bundled up.
Then we tucked into bed. 15 minutes later we heard a plaintive whine and I felt a pair of paws on my side… Magpie gave a shiver akin to a 3 year olds’ faked teeth chattering. We both started to giggle. With an “OK.” she hopped up, curled up and in a moment began to snore. I admit it was warmer all around but by morning the dog had her head on a pillow.
I’d like to avoid having the dog in the bed in the future. There are just too many interesting things to roll in at the farm. Occasionally the dog will lie in front of the heater vent and the waft of hot stink reminds me of my old family rule of no dogs on the furniture. I’ll reserve it for only the coldest nights and freshly bathed dogs.