|Big Pig hung|
God protected her (she now lives closer to the house and is almost tame), but the cold didn’t go away. It lingered. It hung around. It dragged on. And on. And on. Pretty soon we were nearing Christmas. The first snow came the day we butchered the big pig; wouldn’t have been so bad, but for the icy wind that had us sipping peppermint schnapps in big mugs of cocoa while skinning the beast. But it was okay – it’d be gone in a few days max, and we’d be able to butcher the others without losing fingers from frostbite.
|Bones with schnapps|
Bones and Curmudgeon were home over the hill, but weren’t real happy about it. Their hunting cabin had frozen water, frozen septic, and lack of heat in general. They began visiting our place daily just to engage in necessary behaviors, like showering, filling water tanks, doing laundry and just using our facilities. And there didn’t seem to be any end to the cold in sight. We all began praying it would warm up to just freezing so the pipes would thaw. Much like the water troughs…
|Yet another snow buries road|
And then the cold hit again two days ago. We now had a good eight inches of snow, without enough warming to solidify it into encrusted mounds. The horrible winds started yesterday, driving the wind chill to maybe -15 degrees and blowing all the loose white fluff into the streets. Which, if you remember, is why we call the Gauntlet, the Gauntlet.
|Giant snow berms on our road|
|Gauntlet almost buried|
Dude dug out the SUV as best as he could, with a blade that can’t turn sideways. All in a row, I moved the truck backwards, Dude moved the backhoe backwards, and Curmudgeon moved the SUV forward until we were all clear of the snow mountains. Dude stayed, continuing to plow out the cattleguard, Curmudgeon stayed to make sure Dude didn’t get into any more trouble, and I headed home to pick up Bones from the animal pens where she had been doing chores and get her into the house for heat and something warm to drink.
|Berm vs Backhoe|