Week Two: Snowmageddon

tired baby

Battening down the hatches for the first extreme weather of the winter. When the forecast broadcasts a storm warning, we watch the weather closely. Not just the number projections of wind, temperature, and snowfall but the sky and the feel in the air. Bitter winds left our faces rosy and chapped as we sledded our hearts out and squared away our animals.

It is worth noting that in our climate, we don’t even get a decent snowfall in some winters. Plenty of winters don’t even dip below zero. So when these events happen, we must prepare and support ourselves. We want to do more than make it; we want to experience it positively.

When you’ve got animals, adverse weather events become a big production. A round of snow fell uneventfully and magically, giving us 3-4” of dry snow to play in and trudge through as we prepped for the next mega-snow event. We spent a couple of days plugging away at extra tasks, thinking up more to do at each chore time.

It wasn’t all work, though; I pulled Clancy on the sled with the ATV every chance we got until my thumb couldn’t work the throttle! Livi enjoyed the ATV ride but was not pulled by hand with the sled. Every time I tried to put her in the sled to transport her, she’d have a stiff, squirmy tantrum that she just had to suffer through. Clancy rolled her off a couple of times, stating, “That just got to be too much for me to handle.” You and me both kid. (By the end of the week, she accepted being put in the sled, a real arm and back saver.)

Bedding up the horses and goats with shavings, adding salt to the rubber mats outside the stalls, going to the feed store to be stocked up on necessary items, firewood stocked, the blade on the tractor, extra hay to the cows, and grabbing up all the stray items strewn across the ranch that we don’t want blowing to the neighbors, mangled by the plow, or MIA for an unknown period of snowy-time are just some of the priorities.

The real drama surrounded the chickens. Since Fall, they have been out on pasture in their handy little moveable coop in electronets. It is very exposed, not providing much protection or relief from the elements. We can go entire winters here without more than a dusting of snow and a few days in single digits… or we can spend two weeks under two feet of snow. It is a real gamble/crapshoot.

So, we knew we would cross the chicken shuffle if and when the weather forced our hand.

All the other animals are so dialed. They have their place, their feeders, their waterers now. We have systems in place that have streamlined their existence with us. The chickens, less so. We keep trying this and that, and most of it doesn’t work how we want or need it. Eventually, we will have it figured out. We have definitely enjoyed having them out on pasture this swing season, and I believe we are onto something there, but for this insane weather, it just won’t do to have them out in the elements; harder for us to care for them and at risk of succumbing to the elements.

We transformed the first stall in the barn rather quickly, making a new roost and repurposing a fine wire panel my grandfather made to enclose the door fully. A heat lamp on a timer and then their feeder, nesting box, and heated dog bowl cozied it right up. The kids will really enjoy having the hens so accessible in the barn, as long as Carmelita can keep her beak to herself, haha.

The real animals, us, traipsing in after being in snow and muck, have me wincing at our floors. There is nothing like the dust of summer and muck of winter to make me feel like there is not enough separation between our front door and cozy living zone. I try to keep my heart from lusting over our house being bigger or different and instead making the best of what we have but also surrendering to a little bit of squalor and extra work it takes to clean it up.

Friday had us in suspended animation, waiting for the storm to set in. Drip, drip, drip. The snow anti-climactically dissipated in 35* fair weather. Then choretime at 4 pm rolled around, and the gravity of the next few days seized us. Within an hour, temperatures dropped to 12*, windchill made it feel like zero, and it carried blinding specks of snow from the North.

It was a feat to drag the large sliding barn door closed with the wind pressing in on it. Straining against the weight of the door and wind strained my shoulder, a testament more to my aging body than the elements, I assure you. With it closed against the gail, the barn was a peaceful bubble, an oasis in the chaos.

I was frustrated to find that I could not get the automatic timer to work for the chicken’s heat lamp; my heart was set to have it come on at 5 am to help the chickens pull through the final darkest, coldest hours of the morning. At this point, the temperature was below zero; honestly, it would not get colder. They were perfectly content, away from the elements. I turned my attention towards the other animals.

The horses sensed the onset of what mother nature had set in motion, and they were edgy; I was glad to be managing them alone, Clancy having given up and headed back to the refuge of the house. After Porter went on a slight escapade out his stall and into Boe’s for a raucous romp, I got both horses wrangled and suited up in their “Snowmageddons.” 1200 denier, 300-gram polyfill covering their entire bodies—ears to tail to legs!

I left the barn happy knowing that all the animals were well-fed, protected from the wind, and comfortable.

Saturday was the day of snow. After waiting and waiting, the snow began to fall at first light. The animals made it perfectly happy, no shivering or even looking ‘puffed up’. The goats and chickens can do that, puff up their hair or feathers to trap air and essentially insulate themselves. By evening chores the animals were less comfy looking. The entire day was spent below zero with rapid snowfall.

Even our house, with two mini-spilts and two fire places, the house was <58 degrees and a bit drafty. The wind so cutting that it pushed snow through the crevices of our west-facing french doors. We are tough and fine to face such temperatures in our house without a bother; it’s easy to do so when you go outside and feel the bitter sting of snow pelting your face or squat in the elements your goats get no reprieve from.

Scenes of home and our wintry adventure.

The goats finally started shivering when I filled a bucket from their automatic waterer and brought it in for them to guzzle down. They had boycotted going out altogether and were thirsty. That cold water really tanked their core temps. After that, I only brought them hot water from the house at night and in the morning.

The cows had stayed out in the pasture, but I heard them jogging up the alley to their waterer. Icicle chimes clinking together in musical tones. As I approached, Porter approached too, and it sent them running out for fear we were the abominable snowman, I suppose. I trudged after them, calling for Granger to come back. It was the most ridiculous, tragic scene you can imagine. I was all clumsy in bibs, running through a foot of snow, pining after my beloved cow to come back so that I could see her, and all I saw was her black body bobbing away, eventually lost to the blizzard. All I can do is stop, watch where she disappeared, and listen as her chimes echo back to me.

She did bring all the cows back and this time I tied Porter in his stall so that he couldn’t antagonize them through the fence. Granger is nursing a big calf and a little thin right now, the snow blanketed her hunched topline, outlined her hips and each rib. She shivered slightly. They all had snow-covered, hunched backs and shivery tremors in their flank.

Shivering is actually a useful mechanism to animals, our first instinct is to feel bad and worry, but shivering is a tool. Just like eating. Just like trotting around. Just like finding a windbreak or bedding down in hay or the duff under a tree. It is automatice and instinctual. A layer of snow on their backs seems chilly and problematic, but it is actually a good sign. They are well insulated, their body heat is not escaping and melting the snow but staying under their hair.

After the cows took turns tanking up, they jogged away in family groups, disappearing into the snowy frenzy.

I must take a moment to give our Nelson Automatic waterers and my husband(their installer) a HUGE shoutout! Not having to stress about hoses, water heaters that can’t keep up, frozen solid water containers… we did not feel the whole water in winter drama. It let us observe and care for our animals in ways above and beyond what we could have if a huge chunk of our time and energy had to be spent providing water or facing frozen hoses, hydrants, and water tubs.

We felt the glory of our hard work and financial investment. No regrets. I am so thankful we had the opportunity to do such a huge project. We(our animals included) will be reaping the rewards for decades to come.

That night, we all slept upstairs in front of the fire; Clancy’s bedroom was very likely 50 or less degrees. We had gone through an astounding amount of wood and were thankful not to have any frozen pipes.

The next morning, Sunday, the snow ceased, and the temps were up to hovering at zero. Happy chickens, lightly shivering goats, unphased horses, and cows all snuggled out in the big bale that Nathaniel had taken into the trees of the south pasture.

With frost-cloth triple-covering sections of the beds in my greenhouse, the beds under them stayed >20 degrees through even the lowest lows. We were so impressed, but time will tell if it was enough to keep our greens alive. The greenhouse doors are buried and not a priority to dig out.

I swear the outside animals are fairing better than us. With Livi popping out more teeth and Clancy bouncing off every surface, we are all beyond sick of one another! I definitely did not handle the kids with the grace I hoped to, but I’ve got the entire year(and the rest of my life) to work on it. This is an extreme situation, below-zero weather and over a foot of snow with insane double-digit windchill… and we are only halfway through.

Clancy, incredibly, is unphased by the snow and cold—like me. I don’t mind these temperatures one bit. The hard part is having a little Livi through them. Clancy is hardy and in his element. While I was upstairs stoking the fire on the phone with Nathaniel getting the not-so-promising plow report, Clancy got himself ready to go outside. When I came down, he was already out digging out his excavator from the snow at the barn. Meanwhile, Nathaniel was at the end of the driveway with a troublesome frozen e-brake seizing on the tractor—too cold to plow.

I watched him from a window for some time before I looked up and noticed he wasn’t there anymore. I paced from window to window, searching for him. Finally, I resolved that I had to take Livi out in 1* weather when I noticed movement on the driveway. He and Monty were walking down the driveway, nearly out of sight. I called Nathaniel to alert him of Clancy’s adventure and check to see if he could drive the tractor back, but I didn’t get through.

Clancy had been waiting for Nathaniel to return and had decided to set out for him! Bless Monty’s shivering little soul; he was absolutely freezing but more devoted to his boy than his needs.

Just when, yet again, I decided that I must bundle up Livi to trudge a quarter mile out to search for the now out-of-sight Clancy, I saw the tractor returning and Monty clipping along in front. Clancy returned red-cheeked, proud, and ready to harvest, make, and devour snow ice cream (snow + milk + vanilla + maple syrup).

We have more single digit temps followed by freezing rain for a couple days. The worst is very likely to come for the animals; cold rain and ice is dangerous. It ain’t over yet folks, we head into Monday which is the 3rd day in a row of temperatures <11*!