So it had seemed like I was asking for it all along. The rain in October, the unseasonably warm November, and as of Thanksgiving... no snow. Weird. For northern Michigan, thats just plain weird. In the past, we had snowfall in October, accumulation in early November and perhaps a snowday (cancelled school) by Turkey day, but this year the weather kept prolonging the inevitable.
But then it hit.We heard about it for a few days before it actually came. The storm that was tearing it up through the west, overturning the midwest and heading up through the great lakes was all over the news. The farm had about 8 inches of snow fall overnight, add in the strong winds (windy knob... remember?) and it was quite the storm! So much in fact that it shut down schools in the area on Wednesday. There is something about a snow day I tell ya. I swear teachers get more excited for them than the students. Anyway, the snow just dumped.
But that wasn't going to be it. Then the cold kicked in, with windchills well below zero districts cancelled school on Thursday too. And there you have it, the first storm of winter. What's that do to a farm? Well, it makes it darn cold thats what it does. So now the little chores, like carrying hay 
from the loft down to the stalls becomes numbing. And you consider leaving the gate open and letting the darn sheep just run off into the horizon when they break their feeder that you just made a few weeks ago (I know I know, poor build, not bad sheep). But still. I mean c'mon. How about frozen water pipes? Anyway, thats what the cold does, it brings out all of those little odd jobs that you didn't plan on nor have time for.
from the loft down to the stalls becomes numbing. And you consider leaving the gate open and letting the darn sheep just run off into the horizon when they break their feeder that you just made a few weeks ago (I know I know, poor build, not bad sheep). But still. I mean c'mon. How about frozen water pipes? Anyway, thats what the cold does, it brings out all of those little odd jobs that you didn't plan on nor have time for.Luckily, you adapt. You start realizing you can stack 8 bales, keeping it out of reach of the always hungry llama, and manage to get a weeks worth in there; saving the loft trips for weekends only. The frozen water pipe (which would have been disasterous) was easily fixed by wrapping and insulating heat tape around the spicket. Broken feeder? Bigger screws! That may be a temporary fix, Ill keep you posted. But you learn to roll with it. For someone that had every minute of every day mapped and planned out, thats one thing I've had to learn in raising livestock, you roll with it. Well, you yell and cuss a little bit, then you roll with it.
And while I'm at it, here's a complaint about Drogo the llama. How is it he has managed to train me into feeding him in his private stall, rather than making him eat with the others? Picture this, two feeders, plenty of space for the 11 of them to gather round and eat (7 Ewes, 3 Rams and 1 very overzealous llama); you break up the flakes of hay into the feeders and viola, Ponderosa for animals. No, somehow the llama has "personal space" issues and starts clicking and clacking and rearing his tv entenna size ears in every which direction and the sheep have to back down and get out of his way. Well, one day he was in the stall still (free reign to come and go out of the paddock) so I gave him a flake of hay in the wall feeder in the stall. Aw cute right? Poor little guy. Well it hasnt been but a couple days and now you feed the sheep, and where's the llama? You guessed it, inside the stall, sitting next to the wall feeder. No sign of guilt, no remorse or shame, just those beady eyes like, where's my breakfast? I'm more mad at myself really. How did I get suckered by these animals so quickly?
