Did I hear the weather man right? Did he say it’s going to be 35 degrees Saturday night? Isn’t that the weather of winter, with fireplaces a-burnin’ and hot toddy’s a-bubblin’? Where the spider webs have been dusted off the heat lamps and Bacon has had a chance to put on his winter weight.
If could isn’t enough, it’s also raining here. The misty kind, that blows in the wind like someone just spit a mouth full of water in your face. It’s unpleasant for me. For Bob Evans, it’s heaven. He runs around, stands in the rain, and then comes inside and rolls around on the sofa. It’s a dirty cycle that continues throughout the day, and makes cleaning impossible. Why clean when it’ll just get dirty again? That’s the hoarder mantra. And in these trying times, it’s mine.
The llamas seem fine in this weather. I worry about the babies though. Poor Saffy and Rose haven’t seen such weather before. But they will survive. (I hope.) The sheep, while not having specifically dealt with cold before, have their winter coats on. And they seem so cozy! The goats do have a heat lamp, but Bacon keeps pulling the plug out – like he wants the goats to freeze or something. Poor Marvy and Lee!
Weatherization has begun at Orchard House. The temperature is dropping. And so are the leaves. We’re entering the best season of our lives. And the pumpkins are ripe for the carving. Get the coats out of the closet. We’re all going to be just fine!