Brrrr!

I'm not complaining, mind you, but this hail on the deck fell four days ago and has yet to melt away.  A good portion of the chicken pen is shaded, also with a thick coating of ice.  A ground heave makes it hard to open the gate to their pen.  Filling their waterers has to be done in the evening because the faucet is frozen in the morning.  Same for the goats' trough, and I broke through two inches of ice yesterday so they could drink.  "Watch your step" is the motto of the day because slipping and landing on frozen ground would be painful.  Shivering is a way the body tries to stay warm, but it doesn't work so well for the goats when they're up on the stand.  I try to hurry the milking so the girls can get out in the sunshine (when there's sunshine).  At times they shiver so hard I feel I'm getting DIY milk shakes.  I dare not let the wood stove go completely cold because once the house is chilled it takes hours to warm up again and the cats, dog and I huddle together for what comfort we can give each other.  To put it plainly, it's cold!

I haven't seen Kinks for some time now and feel he's gone to Mouse Heaven.  Two new identifiables are on scene:  China, whose eyes are almond shaped instead of seed-bead round, and Hunch, who eats his grain with his head hunched down between his shoulder blades in a way that's all his own.  The goats pay no-never-mind to my head gear, but when I've got a stocking cap jammed under my hoodie, the mice all stop to look, sometimes running away as if they'd seen a monster.  Myself, I just avoid mirrors.

Given the on-again, off-again plans for Christmas, I decided I could open the gift from Santa that had been left in the mailbox.  It was a brand new Zippo lighter.  There's only one secret Santa that recently has watched me struggle with lighters that either wouldn't light at all or raised calluses because of multiple necessary flicks.  Thank you, Linda.  I also owe gratitude to Kathy V., who sent me a care package of homemade jams and a fruitcake.  Fruitcake has a special place in my heart and holds many memories that I'd shared with Kathy V.  I'm told there are those who do not like fruitcake, which I've never understood.  Christmas without fruitcake would not be Christmas any more than Easter would be Easter without colored eggs.

Bessie Anne just made a quick (really quick) trip outside to piddle and I could hear her crunching through the ice on the deck in the dark.  I'm guessing it isn't going to warm up much today, either.  Brrrr!