Wait Fifteen Minutes

The saying goes, "If you don't like this weather, wait fifteen minutes."  Almost as quickly as the snow came, it went.  Oh, there were still patches in shaded spots yesterday, but for the most part it was gone.  Inga had found a nice warm place to lie in the sun and was reluctant to come in for milking, but responded to repeated coaxing (and, okay, yelling) so I could finish the barn chores.  In the late afternoon, Bess and I made a quick trip to the little hardware-and-sundries store in Fair Play.  (My late friend Doris used to call the only two establishments, the little store and what is now The Pub, the Downtown Fair Play Shopping Mall.)  Art, the store owner, said the snow, melt, and following freeze had turned his dirt parking lot into an ice-skating rink that morning.  Incidentally, I found that Art buys eggs for resale and we cut a deal.  Since the little girls have stepped up production, I'm happy to have an outlet for eggs that otherwise would just pile up in the refrigerator.  Snow on the driveway had been no problem on the way out, but coming home the wheels started spinning.  I was about ready to throw the truck into four-wheel drive when they found traction and we made it back up the hill just fine.

There was a World War I song (no, I'm not that old; my dad was a soldier in France in that war) with a line that goes, "Keep the home fires burning...."  I often hum that song as I bring more firewood to the porch or stoke the stove.  It's below freezing again this morning and I've got to keep the home fire burning.