A cold and the cold...

 I have a little cold. Usually, when I get a virus, I keep plugging along and stay sick for two weeks or more. When my husband or son-in-love get a virus, they rest like it's their job for 24 or 48 hours and get well fast. I'm a slow study, but I am trying to emulate them this time. It's good timing because the weekend weather was cold and stormy, and laying low was convenient. 

When we woke up yesterday, it was snowing. I got up, took the dogs out, and gave the chickens and goats water. I fed them, gave them treats, and filled the hay rack. Two inches of fresh snow lay on the ground. I came back inside and went right upstairs and snuggled into my warm bed with a good book. I stayed there for several hours, watching the snow fall and resting. We spent the rest of the day being quiet. We made popcorn and watched a movie. By evening, the snow had accumulated to about six inches, and the precipitation had turned to freezing rain. 

By the time we turned in for the night, ice had begun building up on every surface it encountered. I had trouble falling asleep, coughing, and sneezing because of my cold. As usual, my darling fell asleep instantly, so he did not hear the crashing of falling, ice-covered limbs outside. We lost electricity at ten thirty, and I realized it could be out for a long time. I forced myself to get up and stir the embers in the wood stove, adding kindling and stepping barefoot out into the storm to load my arms with wood. I stoked the stove and sat in the quiet dark until the flames caught. I wanted to ensure the fire was going so we would not wake to a cold house. I slept fitfully (so much for resting!), listening to the wind drilling ice against the windows and the occasional crash of falling branches. 

We woke this morning to a silent house. The background appliance sounds of the refrigerator humming and the quiet rumble of the furnace in the basement are usually unnoticed. Still, their absence makes the house feel different. The dogs became restless, and I suspect it was because the house sounded different. 

When I did chores, it was icy underfoot. I had to skate back to the garage to get a hammer to bash the ice off the latches to the goat cozy before I could open the door. The goats knew I was outside their door, carrying breakfast, and they let their disapproval of my delay be loudly known. When I finally wrestled the door open, they rushed out, giving me sideways glances as they dove into breakfast. I left the chickens safe in their coops. 

Huge limbs and fallen trees blocked the roads on either side of our house. A neighbor stopped his truck, pulled out a chainsaw, and cleared one side. We walked up the street and cut and hauled huge pine limbs that had fallen from our neighbor's tree into the street and onto our property. 

Back inside, we made mugs of tea and hot breakfast. We sat by the wood stove where it was warm and cozy. It was late morning before the power was restored. The washing machine resumed its interrupted cycle. I rinsed the dishes. We took welcome showers. The sky cleared, and everywhere there were sparkles. 

And hungry birds. 

To our surprise and delight, someone nipped in and plowed the driveway for us. It had been too frozen for the snowblower, and we had been dreading trying to scrape and shovel. The kindness warmed us.

We went out for a bite, awed to see how many trees were down in the neighborhood. There will be a lot of cleaning up for weeks to come. March is coming to an end, but winter is hanging tightly with its icy grip. I will be glad when my cold and THE cold pass.