Monday, November 27, 2006
Huckleberry Pie declares farm snow day
I awoke feeling like a child again. I knew we were to have rain storms, but when my eyes opened it was to the 100 year old Doug Fir tree out my bedroom window, its arms draped in heavy snow. I sort of had a moment of confusion, as it felt like I was still in my old homeland of Minnesota. Waking up to the 'sound' of snow, it has a silence one can hear, and I just felt like I was back home. Huckleberry Pie and I [we both enjoying saying this over and over] declared it a farm snow day, Billy seconded the motion, and so after a few quick yoga poses, coffee and yogurt [due to the 3 pounds of extra material in my body consisting mainly of pecan pie], I did barn chores and took my camera. As usual, my camera didn't capture what I saw. The sky had this silver tone in the background, with layers of fog on top of it. There was some blue early on, but the silver came back. Beautiful.
Since we rarely get a lot of snow here, I had this naive notion that the donkeys would be out frolicking like dogs in their first snow. I made them, along with the young rams, eat outside, like donkeys must do in Minnesota, so they could experience the joy of snow. The goats were somewhat perplexed, unimpressed really. But Miss Pussytoes the cat was up early, playing with little snow globs. All the fences, all the manure piles, all the posts created new patterns with snow - I will play with some white on white patterns today, I think. The new bamboo screens Martyn just made looked nice too.
Our Thanksgiving was relaxed. We had dinner in town at Martyn's family's but were home by 6pm, allowing us to take naps in front of the TV before going to bed. The next day, we worked in our garden which was so nice, and then took time to take Pino and Paco for a long walk. We made a visit to our favorite winemaker to buy some of his Pinot to enjoy with our first meal made of our own lamb meat. We had lamb chops, and they were wonderful. I was so proud. I wonder if other farmers shed a small tear the first time they cook something they raised - not out of sadness, but pride for both the animal and the farmer. I mean, I was just proud!