digging out

It snowed all night.


 


This morning, we have a gift -- a window of kindness. A modest cold spell (as opposed to a furiously frigid spell which comes to us tomorrow). Time to dig out. But first -- the animals.

Here's Stop Sign, by her food and by her lair. 






And here's a lucky moment: I pull out my camera before these two disappeared. They're very excellent at disappearing.






Ed reminds me -- they could be hanging out here for ten, fifteen years.  Snowdrop provides the names for the two kittens -- Dance and Bridge. Appropriate. Little girls, or little boys or maybe one of each.

Maybe you've missed seeing the cheepers? They're still under lock and that's not a bad thing: in huddling, they stay reasonably warm. Here's a photo of them, awkwardly taken inside the added coop space. The three big girls -- Peach, Java, Henny.






And brave Pepper...






And sweetly shy, yet quite resourceful little Tomato...






Food, water, coop clean up. As I fix up their space, I worry, too. Record cold, coming up: do we even know how cheepers fare in record cold? We'll get down to -30F (that's -35C). Ed and I kick around ideas on how to protect them. We have to do something!

Breakfast. How lucky we are to have these foods in the thick of a cold January!






Schools are closed in Madison. I'm sure in all Wisconsin. They'll be closed tomorrow and the next day too. We are at the cusp of a significant weather event.

Snowdrop comes to the farmhouse so that her parents can swap around baby Sparrow care and work tasks.

The little girl, of course, is delighted with a relaxed day of play.






And of dress up. (Gaga insists that she keep some extra layers on: I mean, the farmhouse is warm, but we're all walking around in sweaters, so that tells you something.)






An afternoon of story telling. Of writing too. Snowdrop loves to write.






I look outside. The snow has tapered off. I see wisps of sunshine. For once, that's not a good sign. Clear skies mean even colder temperatures come night time.






For once we bundle up for the drive home.






(The snow is up to her chest.)






We have three very cold days and nights before us. Let's hope they pass without major hiccups or calamities. For anybody.