Sheep Lost in Blizzard!We're having a good, old-fashioned...
Sheep Lost in Blizzard!
We're having a good, old-fashioned blizzard today. I have no idea how many inches have fallen (12? 22?) because it's been blowing and blowing. Winds of over 30 mph. All sorts of winter nastiness.
This morning I screwed up my courage and did the chores, which put me outside in the blizzard for an hour. (I'm grateful I did that, because this afternoon the blizzard is twice as bad.) The hardest part was slogging through the snow.
The hens and ducks and cats, all in the little barn, were fine. And I knew the llamas and the ram and the steers would be fine, for they had access to the big barn. It was the sheep, and their guard llama, Tucker, that concerned me.
As I approach the sheep, I start counting heads. Oh, oh, I'm one short. That can't be right. As I get closer to the hay bales, which are providing the sheep with a windbreak, I count again. Still one short.
Okay, don't panic. She must be behind the hay bale. I circle the bale and look. No sheep.
Holy crap. I do panic now, and start scanning the pasture. The wind has sculpted the snow into drifts that are four-feet high in places. Could there be a sheep buried under one of those?
No, the missing sheep must be here, with the others. I look closer. There she is. She was always there, but was so covered in snow that I didn't see her the first time.
Look closely. She looks like a sheep-shaped snow sculpture:
I fluffed up their hay so it will be easier for them to eat:
Sheep are amazingly hardy. Their wool is coated with snow, but when I stuck my hand deep into one ewe's fleece, she was toasty warm. Blizzards are an inconvenience for our sheep, nothing more.
Up at the barn, the steers eat their corn, grateful I didn't abandon them in the storm.
Chachi would like me to shut off the snow, or at least the wind.
And by the time I return home, the path I broke has blown entirely shut. But Melissa and the dogs are waiting for me at the door, so that gives me the extra energy I need to break another path through the heavy drifting.
And now? A book and a glass of wine by the woodstove....I earned it. Wishing you an equally pleasant afternoon....
We're having a good, old-fashioned blizzard today. I have no idea how many inches have fallen (12? 22?) because it's been blowing and blowing. Winds of over 30 mph. All sorts of winter nastiness.
This morning I screwed up my courage and did the chores, which put me outside in the blizzard for an hour. (I'm grateful I did that, because this afternoon the blizzard is twice as bad.) The hardest part was slogging through the snow.
The hens and ducks and cats, all in the little barn, were fine. And I knew the llamas and the ram and the steers would be fine, for they had access to the big barn. It was the sheep, and their guard llama, Tucker, that concerned me.
As I approach the sheep, I start counting heads. Oh, oh, I'm one short. That can't be right. As I get closer to the hay bales, which are providing the sheep with a windbreak, I count again. Still one short.
Okay, don't panic. She must be behind the hay bale. I circle the bale and look. No sheep.
Holy crap. I do panic now, and start scanning the pasture. The wind has sculpted the snow into drifts that are four-feet high in places. Could there be a sheep buried under one of those?
No, the missing sheep must be here, with the others. I look closer. There she is. She was always there, but was so covered in snow that I didn't see her the first time.
Look closely. She looks like a sheep-shaped snow sculpture:
I fluffed up their hay so it will be easier for them to eat:
Sheep are amazingly hardy. Their wool is coated with snow, but when I stuck my hand deep into one ewe's fleece, she was toasty warm. Blizzards are an inconvenience for our sheep, nothing more.
Up at the barn, the steers eat their corn, grateful I didn't abandon them in the storm.
Chachi would like me to shut off the snow, or at least the wind.
And by the time I return home, the path I broke has blown entirely shut. But Melissa and the dogs are waiting for me at the door, so that gives me the extra energy I need to break another path through the heavy drifting.
And now? A book and a glass of wine by the woodstove....I earned it. Wishing you an equally pleasant afternoon....
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