Hold It

As is her habit, after breakfast Bessie Anne asks to go outside.  I turned on the porch light for her and opened the bedroom door to the deck.  Bess took one look at all the snow, backed up, and said, "Um, no, I don't have to go that bad, thanks."  A short while later, she asked again, with the same results.  Another wait, and she started whining.  "Okay, girlie, but you have to make up your mind this time."  We tried the dining room door because she wouldn't have to step out directly into snow.  It was a no go.  It wasn't until after daybreak that she finally couldn't hold it anymore, but it was a quick trip out to piddle and right back in again.

The photo was taken in the same place, the first taken at sundown (not that the sun was visible) when I was going to put the girls to bed and this one as I was leaving for morning chores.  It really is picturesque with all that white icing.  The goats cope better with snow than rain, but they did wonder what I'd done to their world when they came out of the barn.

Coming back up toward the house, I heard a sound I didn't want to hear; running water.  Oh crum.  The pipe up to the faucet by the chicken pen couldn't hold it anymore and had burst when the ice inside melted.  I turned off all the water to the property and called my Go-To Guy.  He was on a job in P'ville and said I'd be next in line when he finished there.  In the meantime, I was dead in the water, or with no water, as the case may be.  True to his word, GT came in a couple of hours.  Thankfully, it was a quick, easy fix so he didn't have to spend any more time out in the snow than necessary.

Waldo has resurfaced.  He was having a time out in one of the bookcases.  Now Al has gone into hiding, maybe because of jealousy.

By nightfall, most of the snow had melted away except for patches on the ground in the shade.  It's still down in the 20s, even with the sunshine.

Remembering yesterday, Bessie didn't even ask to go outside this morning.  She said she could hold it.