We’ll Weather the Weather

Whatever the weather,

Whether we like it or not.

So ends a cute childs poem about the weather. I’ll post the entire poem at the end of this blog.

I enjoy poetry and spent much time listening our mom read it to us even into adulthood. She could read beautifully outloud. This in itself is an art. I too read poetry to our children, some like it, some do not. C’est la vie.

But this post is not about poetry. It is about weathering the weather. The animals on our small farm need daily attention. Twice day is the everyday normal. Often frigid cold weather requires at least a third trip to the barn. Our horses are all seniors. Our youngest, High Hope, is eighteen years old. They are all in great condition, nonetheless, seniors require a bit more than younger horses.

Duke, our oldest at 25/26 years old (we don’t really know how old he is), is the one I will go out to care for in the middle of a wintery cold day. This week has been just that, bitter cold and terribly windy. It is the wind that concerns me the most.

I turn them out after feeding every morning. They can stay around the barn or head out to the snow covered fields, their choice. I have never blanketed them with the exception of our very old miniature, BR, who died peacefully in his stall at thirty-four years old a couple years ago.

Duke still has good body fat on him in part because I grain him twice a day year-round. Except for cold weather. I will go out at midday to grain him again, and spread more hay for the others.

This week has been snowing with bitter winds blowing for several days. The horses actually came in before I got out. Their whinnies told me to hurry up!

Three nights were spent in their stalls with fresh straw thickly spread. Even the chickens were happy for that. They love pecking in straw!

Looks as if the bitter cold has passed for now. All is well. Glory to God.

Snow drifts covered path to barn.
Snow blowing off roof.
Duke was waiting for me at lunchtime.
He’d had enough of the blistering wind and drifting snow.
Snow on Raggedy’s face from digging in snow for grass. I did brush it off.
Can you see the fine snow on High Hopes rump and blowing in the air? Brrrrr…..
Chickens have a great time scratching in straw!
Wait ’till they see their bedroom for the night!
Everyone all tucked in for yet another cold winter night here on our little farm.
Here is the poem!