This morning the first words I heard Pete say were, “it’s dumping.” I presumed that he meant that it was snowing heavily, this as opposed to the puppy taking a crap on the rug, otherwise he would have said “she’s dumping,” He then would have leapt up and tossed the dog outside and come back upstairs with paper towels and rug cleaner in hand. A lengthy discussion as to why the dog was not yet complying with our wish, that she shit outside, would have followed. Instead we both rolled over and went back to sleep. We arose at 9 a.m. It was then still snowing. Me, I could have gone back to sleep, but I knew that since I was a responsible adult, that I had to deal.

I got dressed, went outside, and fed the chickens and the goats. I then trudged

Snow on the woodshed

through approximately five inches of slosh to the horse pen where Tinni and the mares were waiting for their breakfast. I adhered to routine by letting the mares out the back gate, then shut the gate, and opened the big gate so that Tinni could have access to the larger, temporarily empty pen.

The horses adhered to their morning routine; Tinni rolled and then stood gazing in the direction of distant Iceland. And the mares first raced around then began scrounging around for leftover hay.

Me. I grabbed the scoop and began moving the slush that had accumulated overnight off the mats, with the shovel and scooper. Pete, who each day takes the dogs for a short morning walk, appeared, picked up the poop, and emptied the five gallon kitty litter containers of poop into the compost station.

When done, I put out hay in the two enclosures and invited the horses to come in and eat. Then I went up to the cabin where Pete was finishing up making breakfast.

As I ate, I sat on the steps and looked first at the full woodshed, then at the falling snow. The line that came to mind was “it’s so quiet that I can hear the snow fall.”

I worked until 1 p.m. and then went outside. In addition to repeating the above routine, I shoveled paths to the goat and chicken pens and shoveled off the main cabin and tack room steps. This made me feel virtuous.

Pete did not plow today – I’m not sure why. He had his reason. So walking through the snow was a real slog. I didn’t used to, but I now get impatient when I have to trudge. I quelled this impatience by reminding myself that for the next month, the good and bad weather is going to be intermittent. Maybe Pete was thinking the same thing, and this is why he didn’t plow or shovel.

I next picked up the poles in the Playground of Higher Learning and then shoveled off the rubber tarp – getting ready for tomorrow just in case the weather clears.

Pete returned from his walk and we got Hrimmi and Raudi out on the trails. The two were more energetic than usual. After, I took Tinni for a walk around the loop, both of us walking in separate tire tracks.

So yeah, winter is here. This first snow tried my patience, but I will just have to put aside the fact that I’ll be dealing with this for another six months.

Next: 297. 10/27/20: The Gift of Time