Our House in the Snow, Christmas 2021 – Photo by Randal Bays

It’s been so long since we’ve had a prolonged period of below-freezing weather, that we had sort of forgotten some of the basics.  Like detach your hoses and keep the outside faucets dripping.  And make sure the chickens have water several times a day as it soon turns to ice.  Hard on beaks.  Walk gingerly no-matter-what the surface seems to be — just below it’s slickery and slidey to the max.

So far the jury’s out about our hose bibs.  I never gave them a thought until Tucker said he woke up at four in the morning on Day Two and realized he needed to check the schoolhouse pipes.  He went right then, in the pitch of the night, and in case you don’t already know she’s a saint… Carol went with him!  But by the time I heard their story and checked our three outside hose bibs it was way way late in the game.  Everything frozen up solid.  We’ll have to wait until the thaw to ascertain the damage.  So much for my being the Outdoors Monitor…

Visits by the Deer People

I haven’t been very good to the chickens, either, but they told me this morning that they are happy.  It promises to be a bright and sunny day, so I let them out of the coop-run to do a little reconnoitering.  They have been vociferous since Day One that they do NOT like snow.  They either stay inside the coop or huddle underneath it where the ground is bare, though frozen.  Although I’ve been faithful about taking the steaming kettle out to thaw their water, I’ve not seen the girls cross the two-feet of snow-covered wasteland to get to their water trough.  Still… they seem hydrated and perky.  Go figure.  I suspect they’ll stay in the protected area under the cryptomeria japonica where there is familiar-looking (though frozen) brown dirt where the snow couldn’t reach.

Snowy View From Our Front Door, Christmas 2021

Footing is a bit dicey coming and going to the coop, but as long as I place each foot in an undisturbed area (read: where neither I nor any of the visiting critters have been parading around) there is some traction.  I’m not as brave as my neighbor Susan-the-Intrepid.  I saw her late yesterday, very close to dusk, walking south along the verge on the west side of the road.  She had a walker with her, folded up and serving as a four-pronged, two-handed cane.  Her old dog, Ursa, followed dutifully behind.  They were the picture of resigned determination.  I wished I’d had my camera handy.

And so it is on this fifth day of snow in Oysterville.  An unprecedented snow event (at least in duration) in my memory and not one that I hope to see repeated anytime soon.  (Probably the old curmudgeon coming out in me.)  Stay safe, everybody!