The obscenely cold temperatures that have paralyzed us for a week moved on out yesterday. Amen.
I don't think I've ever worried about my animals as much as I have in the past seven days.
Could I keep enough hay in front of Lucy and the boys so they would stay warm? Would the chickens get frostbite?
Would my arms get longer from carrying buckets of water to the barn because the frost-free hydrant froze?
The one animal I didn't have to worry about was Wynonna. She stayed snug as a bug in a
rug pig palace,
underneath layers of straw, ski parka and sleeping bag.
Me: Wynonna, it's safe to come out now. The sun is out and it's 45 degrees!
Wynonna: Are you just saying that to get me to walk out there and exercise?
Me: I'll make it worth your while...
Me: Keep up the good work and you may get sunroom privileges.