Yesterday was a snowy day but a very calm one. We seem to be drifting down into a sentient state, exacerbated by the inability to move about freely, where everything is felt and only just heard, like a song sung by an unnamed stranger far off down the road, its message just out of reach, its drifts of chorus carried by the colour of the sky. But no-one minds. Speech is scarce and measured. Chores handed over and shared with the ease of slinging a leg over a wire and ducking through a fence.
Animals move to and fro with the blunted doggedness of winter. Daisy’s mooing low is more contemplative than demanding as she sinks into that mellow late pregnant state, her belly heavy and all thoughts of wacking me with her big head far from her eyes.Though I am careful to push my hoods back and watch her out of the corner of my own eye when I clean her stall. You never can be sure with that cow, I don’t care how pregnant she is.
Hooves ring and clack on filthy ice covered yards. The crack of ice on the rooves. My boots treading through the shrill snow its dim squeak of protest no longer of any mind. When the snow first came I stuck to my pathways fearing to break into the pristine christmas fairytale perfectness. Wanting to keep it Good as long as I could. Now I break new paths often, because the treaded down ones are all packed down and icy now. Dangerous.
I read the forecast and it says bitter cold. I wonder if tomorrow they will write even more bitter cold or bitter-er cold. Bitter sounds so final. The bottom of the barrel bitter. This far and no further. Yet the bitter goes further. Not last night though, last night was only mildly bitter.
The cold lifted slightly yesterday morning, and there was not one breath of wind though a number of breaths of snow flakes. Blowing to and fro like the bellows of an old fashioned white baby powder puffer.
I asked the sheep to line up for you so you could compare sizes and help me judge whether Minty is pregnant or not.
Mama and Meadow lined up nicely but Minty as usual was not listening to instructions and Tilly was having a smoke in the corner. She is one of those teenagers!
So I went outside into the falling snow in the hopes that they would line up out there and we could have a look.
Minty is second and Meadow in last in this line up. I said, no girls we are not going to have Can Can practice. Meadow is way too pregnant for those kinds of shenanigans.
There is Meadow now.
And below is Minty. I managed to get everyone but Tilly (again) to face the camera but it is hard to tell if Minty is pregnant though, (she is in the foreground) lately she has been looking a bit stockier. I think.
I am watching closely.
I am making a calendar. Mainly because I should be writing. But I have always wanted to make a calender and every time I missed the deadline. Then yesterday I thought – why do I have to make a calender that starts in January. January is a rotten month. We will start in March. So it is called Sheila’s Spring to Spring Farmy Calender Starting in March. It is looking very pretty so far. Nothing like being busy on something when you should be busy on something else. I can make a few extra if anyone is interested.
Boo decided to lay about inside and chew the tail off a monkey and see what happens next. I am not sure if this is awful or funny. Ah well.
Dawn has come. I hope you all have a lovely day. Do you think these days will ever come back? (This what happens when I go looking through the old files for calendar shots!)
Your friend on the farm,
celi
The Kitchen's Garden 
76 responses to “Meadow in the Snow”
A calendar would be lovely thankyou. I feel the change in seasons here too, dawn mornings just cool enough for a light cardi as I do morning chores, and walk the puppy…..and the chooks are sleeping later too, a good thing as they’re very loud about demanding their breakfast and I have Mr Grumpy living over the back who complains about everything. Morning Celi !
Poor Mr Grumpy, I do feel sorry for grumpy people..
Two of those sheep are definitely carrying, of the other two one’s a probably not and the other’s a maybe. But I can’t tell who’s who. Perhaps the next descriptive word for cold is going to be ‘arctic’. I remember we used to use that in England for black howling nights when the snow came horizontal and the doors would freeze closed. Today, the sun is out again, for a while, to send the weeds into a frenzy of growth after the big wetting yesterday. Don’t know how long that’s for, though, as the monsoon front is definitely upon us.
you are correct because Tilly (at this end) is too young and Mama lost hers a while ago, so i hope the two you chose were meadow and minty (2 and 4) .. oh no a monsoon.. rugged.. c
Love the woolly line-up.
Boo is sensible to monkey about inside.
I know what you mean about not knowing if Minty is pregnant or not! We have a cat, our calico, Boo Bop, who I think is pregnant, and I’ve been feeling her stomach dozens of times a day! I did the same thing last spring when I was sure she was getting bigger…..and she wasn’t! I’ll keep you informed on her. My guess is the Minty IS pregnant!!! xo
an informed guess.. c
I think WordPress ate my comment – and hope it gave it indigeston.
I am in jealous awe at your beautiful cool images this morning. Much of Oz is sweltering and too much of it is on fire. (Some of it is flooded too).
Yes to a calendar. Starting which ever month, day, date you see fit.
Your last photo renews our hope of spring–it will come once again.
Love the can-can! You’ve such talented animals on the farmy. 🙂
Did you get snow today? We were supposed to but it stayed south, so, I naturally thought of you guys. I ran a couple errands today and the parking lots were filled with standing water from the melting snow. Hard to believe we’re heading into sub-zero temps again. Looks like I’ll be staying indoors to begin the week. At least there’s no snow in the forecast for the next few days. Maybe we’ll get above freezing, too. Imagine that! 🙂
Yes, the warm days will come back to you. We have daffodils poking their heads up and buds on the trees. The weather men are promising highs in the 60’s for a good part of next week for us. This will ooze its way up to you, I will pray it gets to you soon.
I read your story every day, Ms C. I it’s like a morning prayer for me. Also a newspaper. Often I send to friends to help them wake up. You share a deeply comic spirit with the world, with life. I “stay” (hard to say “live” sometimes) in a city, where both the world and that spirit often get clouded over by stories that shouldn’t have to be told, except occasionally as lessons or reminders, as in that other world of theater.
But I am so happy for the gift of cyber communication. It is not easy to have a good talk with city neighbors. If Frost’s poem about walls and fences is accurate, that may be true on farms too. But here, in my room late at night, or early, or anytime for that matter, it is so good to read your voice and those of your friends, and see what you pick out to see. I can imagine I am listening and talking and most of all just being more alive.
I am grateful for your persistence in this project. In case you may wonder at times about its value, I’d say it’s like participating in creation itself–a generous & sacred act. Thank you, and goodbye (“God be w’ye”). – Would-be Neighbor Al
Your words and photos of the sheep had me laughing out loud. What an ordeal of a winter it is: bitter cold again. Shakespeare’s ‘the winter of our discontent’ comes to mind. Here is it suddenly hot and I had another dip in the sea today to cool off. It will change for you, that’s one thing that can safely be predicted! the farm is having a pregnant pause, that’s all. (very pregnant)
There is a world in which that sheep is pregnant and one in which she is not and at some point the quantum wave will collapse in small shards of ice crystals and you will know for sure. That bitter cold slows down the brain a touch I bet, but you seem to have found a way to ride along with it, ducking over wires and watching the breath of your animals and your own. We have a whole pile of soft toys without ears and with nibbled manes and sometimes stuffing drifts through the house, or is found as random bits of dog tooth floss hanging unbecomingly between sharp teeth. I see kefir baking spreading slowly but surely in the UK by the way, lots of people coming and going to read your original post which got us baking with it. It is now Bri’s preferred form of leaven, everything changes! much love, Joanna
I like your idea of starting a calendar in March. I’m not sure, but isn’t there something in a poem about February being the cruelest month of all? I should look that up – or maybe I just made it up because I always think that we’ll start to see signs of spring by February when it’s actually one of our snowiest & coldest months here.
I’m not a sheep expert so I have no idea on their normal plumpness but I’m very impressed at your choreography skills – kudos !!!