I thought we were getting to skip winter ...
There are two types of people: those who excitedly predict the first snowfall and those who heave a groan and roll their eyes skyward at the mere mention of flurries. I fall squarely in the latter camp.
Am I a complete grouch when it comes to snow? No. If we do get a few accumulated inches, I bundle my kids up, we make a sled out of a trash can lid, and we spend a few hours sliding down the incline behind our house. We laugh and fall off the sled and roll down the hill. Eventually, we make our way inside, fingers and toes icy, and we change into dry clothes and enjoy a few hours in the warmth.
And after that few hours pass, as anyone who owns a working farm or cares for livestock knows, there are things that have to be done, whether snowfall comes on a Saturday or a Tuesday. In the tiny community of Everett Springs where I live, a lot of folks rely on chicken houses or cows for income, and they have to see that investment or employment situation through any type of weather. My corner of the animal industry — riding lessons — falls in the recreational zone, and the amount of sheer work is less. Yet, no matter the temperature, I still have to spend significant time getting my chores done to keep my animals comfortable and healthy.
On my little farm, horses need feeding, hay needs throwing, stalls need cleaning, and water troughs and buckets need deicing, scrubbing and filling. During the summer, especially in the morning and evening, this is a pleasant task and a bit of a workout. I listen to the muted crunch of my horses enjoying their hay, and I gaze over the rolling beauty of Horn Mountain as I fill water troughs. I come away from my chores refreshed and ready to begin or wind down my day.
When cold weather arrives, however, my reluctance sets in. There’s a good chance I’ll be breaking ice out of troughs, my nose and toes losing feeling in the process. My gloves and jacket are always close at hand, but the bite of a frozen gate or the wind whistling over my riding arena cuts through both before I move around enough to warm up. Dry hands and chapped lips are a reality throughout the winter.
Add snow to that recipe, and you’re guaranteed a little misery. That initially delightful confectioner’s dusting eventually thaws and refreezes to slick ice, so these duties become a little more risky — or exciting, depending on your outlook.
And yet, no matter how reluctant I am, my outdoor chores must be done, and preferably before night. If slogging through day-old slush to muck manure and soggy hay sounds unappealing, think about how much less appealing the task would be after dark sets in around 5:30 p.m. in deep winter.
Yes, those of us who spend significant time toiling outside, have a marked aversion to the white stuff, and I daresay, the cold. This year, that feeling has come across especially strong among the farmers and horse people I know.
The outdoor folks issued a collective “Drat” when the sky expelled a few meager snowflakes the other week. It’s as if we thought, 2020 being what it’s been, we’d get a mental break toward the end of it — no winter would have been great.
In the end, I consider it a privilege to have horses on my property and to be able to make part of my living outside, so I don’t want this column to read as a litany of complaints. The pleasure of enjoying all of those leaf-lit autumn rides and green-enclosed spring work sessions means there must be a time of dormancy. We do need the cold so the earth can rest and the insect population will be somewhat livable in warmer weather.
I just want to clarify the opposing point of view on the delights of a snow day. The issue of making the winter livable for those of us who work outdoors is always up for discussion. So, if you spend a lot of time outside in the cold, I’d love to hear your hacks for staying comfortable and motivated!