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greenstormThis is the kind of thing I really enjoy. Tap thawed, bringing everyone a last round of water, but not too much so I'll be able to knock the ice out of the bowls in the morning. Marvelling at physics, at the way the water freezes in the rubber containers from outside in, and expands as it does, so the bottom of each frozen dish ends up with a point of ice sticking out from the bottom. Peeling flakes of straw off the big square bales and bundling them into the wheelbarrow, not because they're heavy but because they're unwieldy and I don't have a calf sled. Carrying the straw into the pig houses and being surprised every time how warm it is in there, even with all the open holes in walls and at the top of the roofline for ventilation and even with the front of the A-frame broken off. Fluffing up the straw in the middle of the swarm of interested, excited, and sometimes even frolicking pigs as they gather to fluff their bedding and search for missed kernels of grain-- much tastier always than the grain sitting in their bowls right there. Digging out my beloved cordless drill and remembering so many nights of patching up pighouses in storms and snow while I put the front back on. They've been through colder than this, and finding the houses warmer inside than I expect it makes the whole thing less of a desperate bid for my animals to survive and more just a way of spending time together. I love the improvisation of sticking my toque on the faucet to see if that helps thaw it, or finding just the right piece of plywood so I can cover the straw with that so I can shift a piece of metal roofing down to go on the wood so I can... etc.
At one point I had the front on the A-frame and was cutting a wider door in it -- there were two open strips, but the biggest pigs could not fit through them. I was using the sawzall which is loud and vibratey and one of the extremely round barrows was inside the A-frame, didn't like the sound, and tried to squeeze through the other side. He got stuck and was squealing and pawing at the ground and wouldn't try to back up even when I stopped and went to help; he eventually got through (and the front didn't come off!) and I finished the opening on the other side. I have to say, it was pretty funny, even if he was not pleased about it (he's also one of the biggest bullies to the other pigs, so that might be part of my lack of sympathy; he spends less time being worried than any of them except Baby and Apricot, I think).
I like it. When I know my animals are safe and comfy, I like just the work part of it: setting up for them, providing for them, bringing them things they need and things that will make them happy. And I'd much rather a job where I'm out at all hours saving the day than a non-flex 9-5 (well, 8-4:30) like I have now. It's just that those jobs tend to reward availability with longer hours and efficiency with more work.
All that aside, I'm happy tonight and my house is warm and my animals are sleeping in deep beds of snow. the wind that was howling all last night and sending the house shuddering and the fire flinching has let up. The house is quiet, my teeth are brushed, and my life would only be better if, instead of going in to work tomorrow, I could spend more than an hour with the animals in the morning and then come in to warm up and cut out some more clothes.
At one point I had the front on the A-frame and was cutting a wider door in it -- there were two open strips, but the biggest pigs could not fit through them. I was using the sawzall which is loud and vibratey and one of the extremely round barrows was inside the A-frame, didn't like the sound, and tried to squeeze through the other side. He got stuck and was squealing and pawing at the ground and wouldn't try to back up even when I stopped and went to help; he eventually got through (and the front didn't come off!) and I finished the opening on the other side. I have to say, it was pretty funny, even if he was not pleased about it (he's also one of the biggest bullies to the other pigs, so that might be part of my lack of sympathy; he spends less time being worried than any of them except Baby and Apricot, I think).
I like it. When I know my animals are safe and comfy, I like just the work part of it: setting up for them, providing for them, bringing them things they need and things that will make them happy. And I'd much rather a job where I'm out at all hours saving the day than a non-flex 9-5 (well, 8-4:30) like I have now. It's just that those jobs tend to reward availability with longer hours and efficiency with more work.
All that aside, I'm happy tonight and my house is warm and my animals are sleeping in deep beds of snow. the wind that was howling all last night and sending the house shuddering and the fire flinching has let up. The house is quiet, my teeth are brushed, and my life would only be better if, instead of going in to work tomorrow, I could spend more than an hour with the animals in the morning and then come in to warm up and cut out some more clothes.
