Timberrr!

Oh crum.  The tall skeleton of the dead oak tree down in the goat pen has stood guard for years, but the last bout of snow and ice was the final straw.  It wasn't immediately apparent when I slowly, and I do mean slowly, crunched through the ice to find that the tree had fallen over onto the barn roof.  It, too. must have gone down slowly because it didn't crash so much as it's leaning on the roof.  The only damage I could see is to the edge of the little room that was put there for pigs by the prior owners of the property and was the kernel around which Steve added on to build the barn.  The main roof seems to be intact and the goats are safe for the time being.  I'll be on the hunt for a woodcutter for sure, but with days of rain and then more snow due, it will probably be a while before help will come.  The vultures are certainly going to miss that tree.  It was one of their favorite places to gather and sun themselves.

It barely got into the high 30s all day yesterday.  Even with a good fire and Stove doing his best, the house never really warmed up.  In the evening, Celeste took over Bessie's favorite spot on the loveseat.  It's happened before and Bess walks away with a sigh, but last night she wanted up there and that was that.  Then I heard scratching and Bessie was pulling over the lap robes I keep there.  Smart little girl.  She'd figured out how to snuggle in and get warm.  I would have liked one of those robes, too, but decided it was best to let sleeping dogs (and cats) lie.