It was another pig-hat day, cold, cold, cold...and wet...and windy. Highway 50, the main road over the mountains to Tahoe, was closed completely due to whiteout conditions. I hadn't realized a whole month had gone by, but the goats had their own way of keeping warm and weren't fazed by the weather in the morning. I had to go around the yard picking up stuff that had been blown hither and thither. The front porch is again packed with leaves. Drat.
I think Stove didn't like the cold, either. He fired up on the first try and kept us all warm-ish. (I never took off the hat.) It was a good day to stay inside and watch football. I wish the Seahawks had won. Sigh.
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I had a call from your Fiddletown neighbor who said that her dog did NOT want to go out in the elements to go potty. I'm not sure how it all ended!!
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