Do Overs

At 3:45 a.m., the new dog, Yoshi, decided to communicate her need to go outside, just as she had been trained. “Good Girl!” I had been lying in bed awake, obsessed with the pending weather, just as I had been trained by the melodramatic meteorologist. “Good boy!” I wasn’t sure if I wanted to reach for my phone to check the outside temperature and wondered why I had put it on my home screen in the first place. Why mess with my head this early? Left it on my dresser. 

Slipped my pants and socks on and followed Yoshi to the door. Despite 45 years of farm dogs for whom I only had to open the door, let them out and wait for their eventual return, Yoshi needs to be chaperoned with her insulated coat, special body collar and leash. I was her guide this early in the morning. Everything happened as it should, and we returned to the house. After taking off her outfit, she made a dash back to bed. I was a bit cold and had to look to see the temperature. It didn’t seem that bad, just 10 below with a 45 miles per hour wind. 

Coffee was speaking to me, and its siren song mesmerized me into its preparation. Love the smell of coffee brewing. It conjures up piles of euphoric memories. For me, the first sip is not a good thing, but after my taste buds have been primed, my intake of God’s morning nectar is on. 

The coffee followed me down the basement to the wood furnace. Some coals were left, but mostly ashes. A cleaning was necessary, knowing that the day’s temperatures would stay in digits below zero. I began taking the coals and ashes out of the wood furnace and attempting to place them into the metal bucket, a process that needs my full brain power, but it was morning, with only half a cup of coffee and my normal attention issues. While bringing each scoop out of the wood furnace, I would hit the side of the furnace door, spilling ash and glowing embers on the basement concrete floor. Each scoop and spill was accompanied by blasphemy that I’m certain my mother would have washed out of my mouth with soap. The fire started, the spills in the bucket, and the bucket was taken outside and placed into a garbage can with a lid to snuff out the embers. I used to dump ashes onto the manure pile or in the spreader until one afternoon, my small ground-driven manure spreader was billowing smoke from a raging fire. That was not a brilliant move, but behavior modification will make sure it never happens again. The spreader is fine. My male ego had been slapped down, but as a norm in my family, it became a humorous story good for many retellings.

I finished dressing and putting on my winter barn clothes and boots. My daily fashion statement? Wool socks that need not match, long underwear, flannel-lined blue jeans that I have had for years, one of my famous old t-shirts from some music artist, and my favorite marmot fleece liner that I bought in Alaska. The cotton hooded sweatshirt is embroidered with my former employer’s name, but there’s no free advertising here. My ensemble comes together with an Omni-lined Columbia coat, Omni Columbia boots and a wool stocking hat. Styling this early on Gravel Road is only self-satisfying as there is no one to appreciate the time and thought put into my attire except for my equine family. They keep their opinions to themselves, except when it comes to food.

As I made my way to the barn, the wind caught my face and instantly reminded me that I was alive. It was like getting slapped in the face with a thousand pins. My immediate reaction was to push my face down into my coat, but that fogged my glasses, making walking through the drifts difficult, and taking a header was not a good idea. I unhooked the latch to the gate and heard the horses nicker. Not sure if they were wondering where the hell I had been or what had happened to the heat. Flipping on the light switch, I rolled on top of a horse ball, falling into the fieldstone wall. Like walking on ball bearings, I maneuvered to the grain room. I laid the grain dishes in front of each horse, and for a moment I foolishly waited for some form of gratitude. I placed enough hay in front of both of them and quickly placed some frozen manure in the wheel barrow. Good enough for a couple hours.

I returned to the house. The smell of coffee and warmth. Turned on the news and was reminded that we have two more days of this “BRISK” weather. We have shelter, heat, food and water. Guess we are one up on a ton of people. I’ll be stylin’ on Gravel road for the next few days. Happy Holidays and BE SAFE.