Dinah Goes For A Walk

Dinah is one of our mules.  She is black with a cute brown muzzle.  She has suffered no loss of weight this winter, standing around, eating good hay, and becoming bored.  

So, two nights ago, Dinah went for a walk.  The elk track coming to the field feeding area piqued her mule-bored brain and she commenced to walk to the southwest across the field.  She probably tried to turn around and quickly learned that the snow was really deep and her fat mule body and short legs with little hoof feet quickly punched through.  So, Dinah kept walking down the elk trail.

I noticed this event about the time she got to the fence a good quarter mile from the house.  With 40" of snow out there in the field, the top wire of the fence is all that is visible.  Fortunately, it is not a barbed wire fence.

Mike and I went into action quickly.  He grabbed a snowmobile (loaded and ready for the next day's snowmobile trip) and I grabbed my winter ranch coat, some gloves and a rabbit fur hat.  

After much to-do, we got Dinah out of her mired-in-too-deep snow state and she uprighted where she could stand and I could hold on to her (happily, Mike had brought a halter and lead rope).  Her black coat glistened with sweat and steam rolled off her; nostrils flared and breathing heavily.  It was 8:04pm. 

 There were some options.  Lead her back down the elk track.  Not an easy task and there was that fence crossing.  Blow out the lane and walk her back to the corrals was the decision made and Mike zipped back on the snowmobile to the shop to get the tractor out. 

I would have taken a picture but it was dark (no moon night) and 18 degrees.  I did not want to take my gloves off.  

So, there we stood.  Watching the tractor in the far distance.  The snow so deep, Mike had to take blow chunks away, pull forward and take more down.  It was an arduous and not-so-fast procedure.  

Dinah doesn't really like people.  I'd try to snuggle into her chest to profit from her heat and she would step away.  She shivered.  I shivered.  I talked to Dinah.  She did not engage in coversation. 

By 9:45 Mike was getting closer but I was getting really really cold.  When my legs started doing funny things, I called him and let him know.  I was begining to worry about hypothermia.

At last, he made it.  Dinah was none to excited about the spinning, loud snowblower getting close, but the path was complete.  Mike grabbed the mule and I shuffeled into the warm warm warm tractor cab.  He walked her home and I drove the tractor back down the path. 

Inside, two hot cups of water and then a soak in the hot tub!  

Happily, Dinah did not suffer any injuries and despite the fact that we saved her life and I kept her from doing anything stupid for two hours on a dark winter night, she still does not like us.  

Dinah went for a walk.    

The Effort of Spring

Winter has a strong hold.  I feel this way every spring, anxious to feel the warmth, see things green up and grow, and celebrate as the last patch of muddy snow disappears.  This is the road the dogs and I walk, just to the north of the place.  Ruby comes home dirty and covered in red mud on her feet and belly.  I do not complain. 

We finally got out on the snowmobiles today.  A lovely ride under towering mountains glistening in whiteness against the bluebird winter sky.  The trail winds and weaves through narrows, against steep banks, up to wide open plateus where one feels atop of the world and the view seems to go on forever, from mountain range to mountain range, infinite.  

Lunch at the remote Box Y Ranch, today filled with snowmobilers relaxing in the little log cabin, waiting for their turn at the burgers and fries always finished with a warm chocolate chip cookie.  We sit and talk to Cindy about friends from the past, crashes breaking bones, new replacement knees, and multimillion dollar landlords.  It is so nice, to sit and talk there in the middle of no where. 

Back in time for a walk with the dogs.  They spy something in the field which looks like a raven to me.  They are at full attention and I wonder if it is an eagle, seeing a bit of white just as the dogs break and take off across the field covered in 3 feet of snow so rock hard, they effortlessly fly across the surface.  And then the black thing lifts its tail.  I yell, I warn them to not get close, I blow the dog whistle (frantically) and they hear me.  They don't get too close.  And they return coming back smelling like dogs rather than skunk.  That was a close call!! 

And I ask you, who is the most handsome dog in the world??  Rooster showing off on the roadside rock hard snow bank, happily unscathed by skunk scent!  Complete still with a full set of testicles! 

It's been a hard week for me and this was just what the Doc would order!!  Hope your weekend is a good one!   

Gardening

"I hate this weather," my friend Brenda spit out.  "It's getting in the way of my gardening!"  Brenda and I have much in common.  She too despises meetings where people talk.  Meetings are where we get things done!  Not talk.  Brenda is funny, bright, and blunt.  She has bees.  And her husband is nice. 

Today, I shoveled a path into both greenhouses.  It makes me feel hopeful.  Although the west wind was sharp, the sun heated my black sweater and as I covered my rock-hard frozen planters with black plastic, I hoped they too would feel that solar heat.  

Here a sunflower pokes its snow topped head out of the four feet of snow.  It's down to zero tonight; not much melting happening!  

Always an optimist!  I dream of maybe some lettuce here in the next bit - or so.  

And doesn't this lil greenhouse look so cute, all snuggled in with snow?  And how about that black snow storm against the mountains to the east?  Thanks to a wicked wind storm earlier this winter, this lil greenhouse will have a harder time warming up; panels missing and cracked.  The weather is tough on things. 

Brenda's birthday is Friday.  She and her nice husband will come and sit at our table with two other nice people and I will cook and create beautiful food for beautiful people, we will drink wine (well, they will; I'm still not drinking), tell stories, and celebrate this wonderful, amazing thing called life.  Even if winter continues to be determined to stay far beyond its welcome this year.  Happy Birthday, My Gardening Friend!! 

January Walk in March

Just like a January day in Illinois, the horizontal snow stung my face as I walked outside to dare a stroll down the road with the dogs.  I crossed the highway onto the gravel Tin Cup Junction Road, the overhead powerlines singing their eerie wind song.  The dogs were jubilant; wound up tight like rubber bands.  This weather does not deter dogs who have been house-bound a bit longer than they would like. 

We walked north, the west wind pummeling my side, my white rabbit hat anchored under my chin and slightly off center to add coverage.  The Rivers West coat stopped the wind and collected a white layer of snow coating.  

When the sun was out, it was a lovely winter scene, observed with some irony on this third day of March. Then the clouds darkened the sky, the snow flakes increased and spring seemed quite aways away.  

I hold little hope for my bees, two hives still hanging on, shivering together to stay warm, peeking outside to see only whiteness.  A bush by the Garden Shed looks like it has green buds beginning.  The horses wander around plowed areas in the corral and surrounding fields, diminished in size by the towering walls of snow Michael has piled to clear them a way.  

We watch the news from California.  Our storm is quaint compared to what is happening there.  One day, spring will come.  Or maybe it will just turn summer.  There is much snow to melt.  This is how much snow just on the flats.  Yup, that's the top of a picket fence.

PS  For those of you who read the last post, I am feeling great!!  Quite the ordeal almost a week ago now.  I've learned a few more things about this body of mine!!  Take good care of yours!!