It started snowing at 3 yesterday and didn’t stop until well after dark. So I knew when I woke this morning to tend animals I would be in the thick of it.
Disclosure #1: Niko is the farmer on snow days 95% of the time. He’s out of town presently, working some magic on our land dream, so the farmer is me. Uh oh.
After pulling on jeans over my flannel pajama pants, donning 2 pair of my husband’s socks (I own none of my own) and multiple layers of long sleeves plus the best hand me down snow jacket ever, (Also from Niko, via his late grandma Fedgie. I love Fedgie. Pieces of her wardrobe are why I stay warm.) I set to it.
Disclosure #2: I am a full fledged, salt water in her veins, Florida girl. Even though at 17 I left the state and carried my gypsy soul all over the place, it’s where I come from. I grew up on fishing boats in the middle of the ocean, y’all. It took me at least 10 years of winter living, from mild-ish Colorado to drastic Upper Michigan and beyond to learn how to dress properly for the weather. And even now it’s up for debate.
2 buckets of warm water sloshing around my rubber (fishing) boots (thank you, daddy), milk pail and miscellaneous supplies in hand, I was off to the barn. Chickens first. You’d think they’d bum rush after all the hollering they’d been doing, but after a quick look see out their door, they decided better of it. I put fresh water and feed in their coop, collected egg (yes, singular) and made my way for the goats.
Sara was very happy to see me, and thus, slightly irritated when I merely replaced her water bucket and headed to the greenhouse. I do believe she was downright offended. If goats could talk… With Niko gone I have to be extra diligent with watering. More often than not, I just forget. And Spring is about priorities (more on that later). At that moment I had to check in on seedlings before it completely left my mind. With our early starts this year both in the kitchen window and in the greenhouse, I have high hopes for a happy garden. With any luck I can can from my own tomatoes instead of purchasing cases from the farme’rs market, though I will still purchase plenty of other things. Lippis is my favorite. Support your local farmers, y’all.
Our soil is happier this year, too, thanks to the goats. Goat poop~ it’s where it’s at. Our compost pile has never been healthier, and neighbors have reaped the benefits as well.
With milking done, I came inside after shedding hairy, snowy clothes in the mudroom (I think I’ll invest on a good pair of Dickie overalls for easy removal) and started coffee and oatmeal on the stove top. Milk strained, dishes done, I could finally sit down with my girls for breakfast.
That was the first 2 hours of my Sunday morning. How was yours?
Happy Sunday. Happy Springtime. Be grateful everyday.