Wow…time sure flies…
I meant to write a year-end post. You know, a look back at the year’s accomplishments? But, in some ways the end of the farm as we have known it seemed too depressing. It’s hard enough to watch the landscape slowly close in and erase any signs of productivity now that the animals are gone and the gardens are dormant, I felt no real compunction to document it as well.
So, I didn’t.
Then I thought maybe I would write a new year’s post. You know, one with hopes and goals for the upcoming year? But, that seemed to tempt fate in some way…what with the pandemic numbers surging and Tom’s health still somewhat precarious. Figuring out our “third act” during what seems like an endless pandemic is daunting to say the least. Add our recurring and chronic health issues and it’s next to impossible.
So, I didn’t.
Now, here I am 30 days into the new year and wondering if it’s too late to ask for a refund on this new year. This is surely still the trial period…right? Maybe an exchange? If these first few weeks are any indication, 2022 does NOT meet with my expectations.
Lest you think I am just whining...
|at first Karma loved it|
|then she seemed a little disgusted by the icicle on her feet|
|now she's started hanging out in the barn|
napping with the cats
|ice crystals on top of the hoophouse|
|more hoophouse ice crystals|
|chicken feather frozen into the water tank|
|icicles under the wolf moon|
|front porch milkcan in the snow|
|snow across the valley|
So far this year (in the last 30 days) we have had more snow than all of last winter (over 26 inches so far), experienced near record cold temps. (-1*) repaired the hoophouse twice (in the snow), made three trips to the hospital…one of those included emergency surgery AND an overnight stay (potentially more lie ahead). The pandemic is still raging locally, and our state government has essentially lost its mind. And, I’m certain I’ve missed something…
Yep. I definitely want a refund. Or at least some sort of credit… 2022 is off to a rocky start.
|despite his pain and surgeries|
the snow must be blown
On the other hand, without the animals and/or market garden worries…we are somewhat free to address the issues at hand. So, I suppose there is some silver lining to all these clouds that seem to be hanging over us of late. More than once we have looked at each other and said “well, at least we don’t have lambs!”
In past years, we would be smack-dab in the middle of lambing season with its round-the-clock barn checks and potential emergencies needing human intervention. Between the weather, my physical limitations, and Tom’s trips to the hospital, I am certain there would have been numerous losses, and I would hate those.
So, anyway…I don’t want to be “Debbie-downer” here…let’s look for something positive in all of this.
I suppose you could say that “all’s well that ends well…” although nothing has actually ended yet.
We were really hoping that the kidney saga that started LAST year (May 9th to be exact) was finally coming to an end. He had one more scan and we were hopeful that would tell us everything had improved.
Two days before the scheduled scan, he started feeling bad. Really bad. Figuring it was just another stone, trying to avoid the ER on Sunday, and the weather was a little sketchy, he decided to ride it out. When he was no better on Monday, the clinic told him to come in for a check.
The next thing I heard, he was in the emergency room, headed for surgery! The doctor said something about possible renal failure…
**just an aside here…COVID precautions mean that I cannot go inside the hospital with him for his appointments. I have spent the equivalent of days in the hospital parking lot…just waiting. I’m getting a lot of great reading done-even a little writing…so I guess it’s not all bad. However, this time they forgot about me…and the only information I got was straight from the patient. (that freaked me out just a little bit)
As a precaution, they kept him overnight and released him the next day. There was some talk about a trip to UVA (the medical center over the mountain) for a more serious surgery if things didn’t improve…
**another aside…I did go home rather than slowly freeze to death waiting in the car**
The second surgery (still at our local hospital) went better than expected and while we still don’t know if the trip over the mountain will be necessary, at least Tom isn’t in excruciating pain anymore. And, neither one of us has gotten sick (so far).
That’s a good thing, because after each of the month’s big snowstorms, I’ve found a big rip in the hoophouse. While we aren’t growing for market anymore, the hoophouse makes it possible to (theoretically) have greens year-round, get a jump on the season, and gives me a place to play in the dirt and think when it’s too cold or windy out in the elements. I don’t think we’re ready to give up the hoophouse just yet.
|hole in the hoophouse|
|first hoophouse repair|
|second hoophouse repair|
the snow really is THAT deep!
We bought new plastic to “skin” the hoophouse last summer. But things being what they were, the job never got done. Which, again, is a good thing, I suppose. At least we’ll be ready to “re-skin” as soon at the weather breaks. This means the hoophouse is still a viable growing option. In the meantime, we’ve done a couple repair jobs with some old tarps and a bunch of rope. It looks awful and there will probably be no more off-season greens…but, at least it’s not ripped to shreds and blowing around the county.
We’re quite the pair…” the halt and the lame” …or however you’d describe our disabilities. Again, we’re fortunate (I really hesitate to say “blessed” because believe me…it is SO hard to find gratitude for one’s afflictions) that there is nothing that absolutely requires our undivided attention and effort.
Although, the hens did put me to the test when they decided to camp out during one of the big snows. With the wind whipping and the snow coming sideways, the dog and barn cats still needed their supper. I just happened to peer through the white-out to see a bunch of little dark lumps in the chicken yard. Those stupid hens were all sitting there, snow piling on their backs and icicles forming on their combs and little eyelashes (chickens DO have eyelashes). Only one hen remained in the house, cackling to herself that she didn’t have to share the feeder. She looked a little perturbed when I dropped the first snowy chicken next to her. One by one, I managed to capture them and put them inside, where they seemed surprisingly “chatty” and happy to eat. Of course, the last one freaked out, went under the henhouse and required me to “army-crawl” in after her (through the snow, of course)
|seriously...they had icicles on them!|
But, again, “all’s well that ends well”. They were none the worse for wear, and Tom still has eggs for his breakfast.
That little adventure gave me a new appreciation for my prescriptions, though. The cold weather doesn’t do anything good for my fibromyalgia. Definitely not. The fascia (connecting tissue) that is usually somewhat stiff, becomes almost totally immobile with the dropping temperatures. It takes real effort to maintain any level of activity. I would be all for human-hibernation if that was a thing. I try to walk everyday (except when it’s extremely wind and frigid…or super icy) to keep all “the juices” flowing. (and because I know the cardiologist will ask) that at least gets me out of the house and into nature for a little bit.
Although, nature is all around us. It’s an endless parade at the bird feeders, as I can tell from my photo files.
|I was kind of surprised to see this girl looking at me from just beyond the mailbox|
|this little squirrel was traversing the creek paddock with a nut|
|the creek looks magical in the early morning frost|
|fungus on a fallen tree|
|dry thistle heads looking kind of moody|
|now I know why I have to buy bird seed so often|
that woodpecker has atrocious table manners!
|some wild times at the bird feeder|
|this sparrow looks cold|
|okay, everybody looks cold|
|there are SO many cardinals!|
|this looks like it should be an album cover|
"the four cardinals sing...something..."
|it's so cold he has ice on his feathers!|
Not too long ago, there was a huge flock of turkey vultures "Cathartes aura" (more commonly referred to--at least around here---as just plain Buzzards) that roosted in the trees out front. It was a little eerie to see at least 2 dozen buzzards sitting in the bare branches, and then swooping and flying overhead. They made a frightful sound when they landed on the house.
|buzzards in the trees|
|getting settled for the night|
|taking off at daybreak|
It was the first time I’d ever seen such a large group here on the hill. it reminded me of a story a friend used to tell…
He spent summers building fence with his dad around the county. When the day got hot and work slowed to a crawl, his dad would look up and say “Son, better get a move on…we’re movin’ so slow, you’re lookin’ a lot like lunch to them buzzards!” for some reason, I have always gotten a chuckle out of that story. …and felt the need to keep moving…
Which, I suppose I should be doing now.
|wolf moon at sunrise|
|crescent moon at sunset|
Like another friend used to say at the end of his radio show…”nothing much happened in our town this week…”
Here’s where I sign off as well. Because as you can see…nothing much ever happens around here!
Thanks for reading!