February storm...

The snow began shortly after dark last night. Fine flakes, falling at a rapid rate. It kept up through the night, with high winds. The wind makes a haunting, howling sound as it whips around this old farmhouse.  If I were here alone it might drive me mad, but snuggled up in bed with my beloved and a dog or two, warm and safe, I love to hear it screaming and whistling along the eves. The windows rattle, but we are cozy.

We were up well before dawn to see how much work was to be done. I started the coffee. Chris got the snow blower going.  I grabbed a snow shovel and began at the studio deck. Seven to eight inches of fairly wet, heavy snow had to be moved. I shoveled the deck and steps. Chris ran the blower up the path, then I went behind him with the shovel, tidying up spots the machine missed. Next he began the bigger job of clearing the driveway.

I took the little dog I am babysitting outside. A middle-aged bichon frise, he loves the snow. He ran to the end of his 16 foot leash, then threw himself on his back, writhing in joy, making puppy snow angels. Then he leapt up, ran to the end of the leash, and repeated his writhing. He stopped only to take care of important morning potty chores, then did more running and rolling. I had to laugh. 

Rachel was here. She stayed last night so she and I could watch the Westminster Kennel Club dog show. It's been a tradition since she was a kid. I'd let her stay up late, we'd have a special snack, and admire the beautiful dogs as they paraded before us.  I was tickled that she chose to come watch with me last night.  We opened a very special bottle of wine that had been gifted to us and enjoyed every sip. But I digress. This morning she booted up, borrowed my good hat and grabbed a shovel. As the wind swirled the snow around us, we three tucked our heads down and worked.  We all took a little break as dawn turned the sky from black to pewter. I cooked home raised bacon and some fresh eggs. Then we were back at it. Chris created paths through the snow to the hen houses, to the pasture gate, then out to the donkey dorm. He made a path so the animals could easily get to their water bucket, too.  I went behind him, carrying hay and breakfast for the goats and donkeys. They were glad to see me. Rachel fed the chickens and filled up their water bowls. The snow turned to rain, then freezing rain, then back to snow. Very few cars traveled our road.

It is a day for puttering. We cooked some beans, fed the bread starter, planned tomorrow nights Valentine's supper. I tidied up, fed the fire, heated leftover stew for lunch. We went back out and cleaned the deep snow off the cars, and moved them, then cleaned up the dense piles of snow that had been on the cars before we scraped it all off.

 

The wind died down, but you can see where it drove the snow sideways to stick on things.

Inside it's warm and quiet. The dogs are tired from being out with us while we shoveled. Bravo plays games of fetch when I am out, plowing through the drifts, pouncing on a tossed toy, then bringing it back to me, triumphant, over and over. 

In sharp contrast to the view out the windows, bright orchids are blooming inside.

 

And the air has a faint smell of cookies.  For Christmas we gave Rachel a book she had admired, called American Cookie. The author, Anne Byrn, writes about the history of cookies in America, and each recipe is printed with a description of the treats place in the story of our country.  Rachel has decided to bake her way right through the book starting with the first cookie and baking in order.  Since we don't need to be eating dozens of baked treats, we put them out for our grooming customers. Rachel often brings the cook book for people to thumb through while they wait, and we print up a sign telling what flavor is featured.



This weeks recipe involves a large quantity of nuts, and some chopped dates. This type of cookie was called a "Rock cookie." An alternate name was "Billy Goats." They are delicious and unique, not as sweet as more modern cookies, with a nice, cake like texture.

 

Yesterday the pasture was mostly bare ground, and the goats and donkeys were out nosing around hopefully.  Today they are sticking close to home, waiting patiently for the storm to pass. And possibly hoping for cookies on my next trip outside.