My visiting friends areheading north and they know to leave the farmette before the big storm system brings flurries and winds to this part of Wisconsin.
We do eat a leisurely breakfast! Of course we do!
And because it is (initially!) a balmy 39F/4C outside, the cheepers come up to the farmhouse, as if to prove their strength, even in these late November days.
But as our Florida visitors pull away, the winds pick up and the snow showers begin. Everything freezes rapidly.
The cheepers are caught off guard. They trot into the garage and wait.
And wait.
I'm thinking -- this is not good. They're far from their roost, their food, their water. I tell Ed to pick up Oreo (and he happily obliges!)...
...while I hustle the hens back to the barn. But they will have none of it. Snow on the ground? Nope, we're not moving.
And the snow picks up and the landscape is transformed and the brood looks on.
I retreat to the farmhouse. Ed brings Isie boy over from the sheep shed. (The cat has been in hiding since Karma, the dog came to visit. )
The cat doesn't last. He is suspicious, distrustful. He hides under the bed, then begs to be let out so that he can go back to the sheep shed.
In the meantime, I worry about the cheepers. The snow is mounting. I try to brush a path for them to follow. No. They stay in the garage.
At dusk, End and I make our way to them. We figure that if they doze off there, we can pick them up and carry them to the coop.
But they're gone! I have visions of shreds of feather lining the garage floor, but in fact, they're much smarter and braver than I would have thought. Sometime in the thick of the snow shower, they made their way, hugging the least snowed in surfaces, all the way to the coop.
Good night cheepers. So long to our Florida gang. Hello cold weather again.
We do eat a leisurely breakfast! Of course we do!
And because it is (initially!) a balmy 39F/4C outside, the cheepers come up to the farmhouse, as if to prove their strength, even in these late November days.
But as our Florida visitors pull away, the winds pick up and the snow showers begin. Everything freezes rapidly.
The cheepers are caught off guard. They trot into the garage and wait.
And wait.
I'm thinking -- this is not good. They're far from their roost, their food, their water. I tell Ed to pick up Oreo (and he happily obliges!)...
...while I hustle the hens back to the barn. But they will have none of it. Snow on the ground? Nope, we're not moving.
And the snow picks up and the landscape is transformed and the brood looks on.
I retreat to the farmhouse. Ed brings Isie boy over from the sheep shed. (The cat has been in hiding since Karma, the dog came to visit. )
The cat doesn't last. He is suspicious, distrustful. He hides under the bed, then begs to be let out so that he can go back to the sheep shed.
In the meantime, I worry about the cheepers. The snow is mounting. I try to brush a path for them to follow. No. They stay in the garage.
At dusk, End and I make our way to them. We figure that if they doze off there, we can pick them up and carry them to the coop.
But they're gone! I have visions of shreds of feather lining the garage floor, but in fact, they're much smarter and braver than I would have thought. Sometime in the thick of the snow shower, they made their way, hugging the least snowed in surfaces, all the way to the coop.
Good night cheepers. So long to our Florida gang. Hello cold weather again.
