Okay, we will miss snow covered Teapots

Spring is upon us...really, it is. It has been sunny and 40's for two entire days and the ice is dropping and birds are singing, the pussy willows are popping...and just two days ago this was the scene. It has been a long, icy winter [for so many] and as difficult as that can make farm life [or any simple tasks for all of you reading] I have to say I loved seeing the The Teapot and donkeys in their snowflake suits. So I guess just as we yearn for the tulips and spring blooms this time of year, come November we will look forward to seeing our little short and stout masterpiece in the snow. The donkeys and her are getting along well, although Old Matilda still thinks she is a bit forthright in her attitude. The Teapot comes into a separate stall at night to prevent overeating. Earnest, the poor chap, has given up on being friends, I think. He moved his bed to be near Boone's area. I thought it was sort of sweet, he has always liked Boone and can commune through the fence.

"How many times can she photograph my snowness?"

I can't resist it, every snow day presents photo opportunities galore with White Dog. I've become like those people on Instagram that can't simply live and enjoy moments with their child, they have to IG everything.

No, I really haven't.

But I am glad to photograph him. There will be days ahead I will want these photos to hold onto. I know, because I have photos from the old from I hold onto of the animals I've had to say goodbye to over the years. I never want to Benedetto to die, without me. But of course he will, or I will. Until that time, he is a loved subject of my lens.

How much snow can a donkey shovel

It snowed a wee bit. Just a tish. Then it snowed a tish more.

Or as we say in the barn when it's just us Misfits,

"That's a ##$%^##@ lot of snow."

I must follow my own code of ethics–no weather whining [unless it involves biting flies, then I can whine because I am usually bleeding from wounds]. But, even us winter lovers do get worn out this time of year when these storms keep coming back to back...to back.

But, oh it is beautiful.

This morning I stopped midway to outer barn, just to look. Imagine, I thought, if you had never seen snow and you woke up to this?

Imagine, if they told you today is the last day you will see...or hear the way the snow sounds as it lands...

I had planned to be in the studio which has sorely missed my presence, as has my bunny studio mate, but the time I got done shoveling in the front barn, I was already sort of pooped [for the record Martyn was good enough to shovel all the way to barn for me, since it was well past my knees, usually I just trudge on]. I arrived at the outer barn, and I let out an expletive-in amazement. Then I counted heads to make sure all Misfits were accounted for.

The way we positioned the barn means the exits are under the metal roof, and sliding snow creates mini avalanches. I will say last nights snow off the roof created a great wind barrier for the donkey stalls. And it was pretty cool, it reminded me of when we had so much snow in Minnesota as kids and we would carve out forts from the huge snowbanks.

I am getting a bit worn out, but it is better than ice storms, or earthquakes. Or...you know...biting flies.

Being the eternal optimist and lover of all things Nature has to teach us, I took today as a sign to slow down, enjoy time with my flock and Misfits after all the shoveling. I was rewarded in many ways...including with llama love. Birdie followed right behind me as I shoveled out the avalanche on the sheep side of the barn. She was very concerned I think.

We love it, we lay in it, we walk in it, we do not complain, we live

Today we awoke to another Dorothy-enters-a-winter version-of-OZ, the 12" of snow from last night's Nor'easter blanketed the land and encased the fences and trees. But White Dog was there to simply be what he is every day, White Dog. And Marcella joined in.

A day with snow is a day without flies, that is our motto in Maine. It is a beautiful snow, a bit heavy, but there is no more wind today and it's still coming down.

It is hard to resist taking any photo of something snow covered. So enjoy these photos. I hope you can feel the silence of the earth below the sound of the snow...and the contentment of two White Dogs.

Awakening to quiet beauty

Awaking to morning after there has been considerable snow at night is always a magical experience for me, perhaps it takes me back to childhood, when a new snow meant no school, sledding and baking cookies.

It was a heavy snow of about six inches, caking the branches of every tree. And the sky color this early morning was very intense blue. It will be gone soon as its warm, and fifties are forecast for next week, so I will relish in it today.

There is a sound to the snow. But it also leaves a blanket on the interference of the noises of the human world going by the front of the farm. As much as spring and gardening and all the joys that come with warmer seasons, I do love winter for giving me quiet and less intrusion.

Dreary day...stuff yourself into a dog bed

It is a dreary day. The beautiful snows we've had this week are now being rained on, and it is grey. I have been in a quiet little funk all day, but...take heart, I say to myself, I will have soup tonight after a hot bath, some tea, and to bed early. I really just want to get in bed today, I don't usually feel like that, but today the relentlessness of the rain and grey is getting to me, plus I'm tired.

I should just follow Muddy's lead and try to squish myself into a pug bed!

First snow, big week

We had our first snow, a beautiful six inches or so and it is so welcome. I love winter here [I do get a bit cranky come early April if things aren't going as I'd like]. White Dog is just thrilled, he sleeps in it, eats it, rolls in it...it is his element. In winter, the sound is different, a quiet blanket covers everything and you can hear the snow when it falls. The front road slows way down even though it already has by this time of year. And let's not forget, there are no flies.

It is going to be a busy week! We have Opie's first birthday and he has two therapy visits scheduled, along with a birthday party with his elder friends in Wiscasset. I'm not sure his ego will recover.

All this week, I am attempting to fund raise another $1000 to add to the barn fund. I have a fundraiser on Facebook, but you can also just donate here and I will add it to the pot-it all ends up in the same place. All donations go into the Apifera account and are tax deductible. Opie is pretty happy just as he is, but if he could talk, I think he'd ask for a dollar or two for the barn-he knows the new barn will bring more animals, and also he is hoping maybe he can venture out there and nap with the donkeys. He says he doesn't get to be with the donkeys enough.

It is also the season of the Garland Festival. I will share all that as the week progresses.

The snow of yesteryears

We had another 6 inches of beautiful snow a night ago. I awoke to the entire Wood covered in beautiful white clothing, every wood pile, every poop pile covered delicately in fluffy snow.

It was a night snow, katakana in Eskimo. Night snows are especially joyful I think, because you get up and open the door just as Dorothy did when she landed on Oz, and swoon.

To say White Dog is in his element is an understatement. This dog is so happy here. Not only with the snow, but his new solo job of guarding the small flock, rather than sharing that duty with Marcella.  I can tell he is very content here. I bring him into another paddock a few times a week during the day, depending on where the sheep are, and let him have wolf play with Marcella.

I never tire of seeing him at the gate, and even though I have taken the same photo of him there many times, each snow fall makes it different. The barn roof snow finally slid off, making him his own mountain which he proudly sits on for a perfect view all around his terrain.

As the Eskimos would say: there are ontlas all over {snow covering objects}, dinliltla cover the hind end pantaloons of the White Dogs {little balls of snow on dog fur}, and now quinyaya is appearing {snow covered in animal poop}. And there is the beautiful kriplyana {blue snow} that is so mysterious and makes me imagine an entire universe living under the snow.

Someone asked me if I liked having a wintery winter, versus what I considered sort of a cold spring in Oregon. There is so much I love about this kind of winter, but it is also problematic on a farm, I can not deny that. In a way, I'm glad we got the epic storm we did, where 24" fell in 12 hours on top of the foot we already had, and then another 6" a day later-it showed us what we need to think about next pre-winter, and it showed us what improvements we can make in the barnyards to help with clean out. It is no different than the learning curve we faced our first year in Oregon with floods in our fields. Oregon got fog and ice, we get snow and sun [usually]...winters go on here, I get it, and that was a sobering fact I had to face as i was digging out a small path, again, and again, this past storm.

Here's the thing, I've lived my life with one rule: Live in way, in place that makes you happy; if that changes, you can find another place. I've never left a home because I hated it, I left NYC, Mpls and then my beloved first farm in Oregon because changes had occurred, earthly plates had shifted, I had shifted, Martyn had shifted. I am not afraid to move with changes. I guess the biggest fear I have is getting to a stage I have to go where I don't want to go because of inability to care for myself, or not being able to live with animals.

I try to show my positive thoughts right now about winter. There is so much gloom out there right now for so many. I grew up in snow, so it just isn't an issue. I love that Maine has sunny days-light becomes very important as we age, and I do know that the grey in Oregon was really getting to me-and once you are wet, you never really get warm again. I have had thoughts of spring, it would be spring to me in Oregon, and I loved that tulips pop up there in February and the minute leaves fall in autumn the buds were there. There is never has that will winter ever end feel in Oregon [to me, a Midwesterner].

But it's beautiful. It's so beautiful. The Eskimos have a word for "the idea of snow, penstla. I was excited for snow when we were moving here, and I could feel the same excitement of the first snow here that I felt as a kid in Minnesota, my family all there, the idea of sledding on my mind or skating. Snow was a gift! Digging tunnels in the barnyard reminded me of the ice -snow forts we'd make, and the quiet they gave us when we crawled inside.

The snow of yesteryears, nylaipin, is still in my heart. The rains of Oregon never did that.

White Dog on his mountain-snow fall off from barn roof

Blue ice

We survived!

The nor'easter came and went and left us with a beautiful 10-12". Last night the winds picked up and rattled the windows and made snow patterns on the outside. It was like being in some kind of fairy book. I have always felt our house looks like a place a fairy would live, a warm place to come to after a long journey.

I've been having some memories of winters passed, from my younger days in Minneapolis-where I can remember shoveling two feet of snow [a law in Minneapolis that you have to keep your sidewalk cleared] and then by the day's end I'd do it all over again. Growing up in Minnesota I remember winters being all snow, lots of snow, enough to build ice forts and sled and make angels. I remember winters in upstate New York when I was in college, and I wore my Wallabe shoes without socks, yes, what can I say? The latter gave me cracked heals for the rest of my life-I was young and glowing then, but not as sharp in the brain.

And in Oregon, we would get a snowstorm a year at the farm, and I can remember thinking,

Man, raising sheep in a winter climate must be horribly hard.

So for now, the winter weather is just fine with me, I like it. But I don't have to get anywhere fast, nor does Martyn. The roads here are plowed constantly-a huge difference than Oregon where the state shut down, once for two weeks, after about 5" of snow. So winter here is simply...winter, another bunch of months on the calendar.

Winter here makes me feel like I can focus more on what is inside of me. I feel it gives me a chance to go back to my root-in an artistic way. It's beautiful, pure, and I can see the bird tracks, and I now know where the bunnies live as I track their toe prints. I can see the squirrel nests high above in the bare trees, and with a dusting of snow they are like beautiful dried floral arrangements. I love our bedroom because it is so old and the wind here off the coast is an entity of its own and I feel safe in my big bed, looking out at the snow at night. You can see white in the dark, I like that.

Nobody is suffering. Last night though I worried a bit about the equines. They have ample shelter, but we are learning where the east winds come round the one side of the barn, and next year we will add one more wall. It means when I arrived this morning for feedings there was a bit more snow in the overhang area, but some good hay got everyone warm again [feeding grain is not the way to warm your horse, it's all about the hay, and the actual process of chewing creates heat in the body-I find that really interesting].

There are certainly inconveniences on a farm to a 12" snow. And I can't use my hoses so I carry the water in buckets, but the barns are closer together. Besides almost being buried in an avalanche of snow sliding off the metal barn roof, I'm surviving. And of course Martyn is here full time, keeping the fire going and plowing our drive.

The White Dogs love it. The pigs go out but mainly hang out in what is an amazingly warm stall even on this ten degree day. Their body heat keeps it tropical in there - well, it feels tropical after you come in out of a brisk wind.

I do remember the longness of winter, how it can get very old, quickly, if you are living to shovel. Then again, I feel that way about humidity and heat. Mid coast Maine is not as severe as Minnesota, we were surprised by that. Certain things grow here that you can't grow there, and while we do have a winter, I don't think it will compare to Minnesota. But, we are suppose to get two more significant storms in the next few days. I will attempt to revel in it, as a White Dog.

{I post photos at Instagram too and you can see some snow images}

I tied hay twine to my cleats hoping it would help keep them from falling off.

"Chipmunk! Winter is coming! Do you know it will be cold?"

We took down a dead Alder this summer that has about two cords of good, long boring wood for us and it has taken up most of Martyn's hours these past few days. We have about four cords ready maybe six. We have a furnace too so I think we are ready....for It.

We are not ones to have a warm house anyway, and the size of this place is easy to heat and keep pipes working. Yesterday I spent the afternoon stacking while Martyn took the tractor and retrieved the wood. He took great pleasure in driving back with yet another load, and dumping it near my feet, just as I had finished stacking the last load.

But there is something really therapeutic and rewarding about stacking wood. It is similar to getting the hay in the barn each year. You feel you are getting the nest all hunkered down for you and yours.

The entire population from all over the country is letting us know the winter is coming, as if we don't know. I just watch the little chipmunk outside by bedroom each morning-now there is a busy little chap. Funny, you don't hear anyone saying,

"Chipmunk! Winter is coming! Do you know it will be cold?"

Anyway...we know winter is coming. We see it in the beginning wooly coats of the equines, and early evenings, the wind sounds different because leaves are crisper and some have fallen making the forest sound...like winter.

We have a plan for keeping paths open to the barns in the snow months, and keeping the areas near the house manageable for the dogs. Our new frost free pumps we put in for water are ready for action. We will get my all weather tires this month and I need to get some more deicers for water buckets for barns. I'm sure we will learn what part of our infrastructure needs improving, but we can't do it all in the first summer/fall. We need more wood sheds, which will happen soon.

To be honest, I feel I need a nice cold winter with lots of snow. I wrote a list the other day of all the change and loss at the old farm, right up until this month with Huck and Raggedy's death. I shared it on Facebook not to seek sympathy, but to express that as I looked at the long list, I was overwhelmed. I think that by being in the thick of it all for those years, I really didn't have time to grieve long. I just kept moving on to the next death. I didn't shun it, I didn't get jaded, I felt it and did what had to be done, I expressed and homaged it through writing and art, but I also did not stop..not once.

I think this winter especially is the universe's way of letting me stop, crumble like the beautiful leaves all around me underfoot, hibernate in my little 1760 house and lick my skin and hold my heart. There is much percolating under the ground all winter, and spring will bring so many new things...new surprises...new creatures...and I will be rested.