I was working upstairs, receiving texts from friends and family of what snow they were seeing all over Oklahoma, noting only a dark, cold, dry morning outside. I admit, I felt a little teeny tiny bit sorry for myself Just a smidge. Snow is just plain fabulous, but still I tried convincing my childish heart that I was sad for good reason. That we need the moisture here so badly.
Then I heard the horses whinny kinda oddly, much differently than I am used to hearing, sort of a wiggly whinny, a silly sound, and I looked outside to investigate. Imagine my shock and thrill to discover that in no more than five distracted minutes, during my wintry pity party, the Lazy W had been covered by the pure white fluffy stuff!
I was squealing with excitement!
The snow fell so rapidly and silently, I almost couldn't believe it!
That wiggly whinny was the horses celebrating! I think.
The snow fell quietly on our dark nine acres for almost three hours, piling up about two inches of cold frosting all over every exposed surface (including all of our llamas). I watched, checked everyone for safety and water, and admired it all, then huddled myself back inside the house with Pacino. He and I had a lot of work to do. Like read Louisa May Alcott and drink hot lovely things and gaze at the Christmas lights. Oh, and watch for paper white blooms.
Paper white blooms = totally worth the wait
Then sometime midday the sun reemerged with a vengeance and made the winter wonderland downright comfortable. Sparkling and fresh, cold but not frigid. In fact, the blacktop surfaces all warmed up quickly and made walking around super easy.
Ever faithful Mia watched and waited during my snow carving
of our ranch brand here, and then he followed me all over the farm,
honking melodramatically and kicking up little snow flurries of his own.
Silly goose. Snow goose. Silly, lovesick, loyal snow goose.
The snow was caught in pretty little pockets in every tree, ornamenting them beautifully.
For some reason, seeing the Talking Tree dressed in white almost made me cry.
But that bright sunshine crawling over its shoulder cheered me up completely.
The summertime swing, wet from melted snow, hung perfectly still
from the tree's thickest branch, ready for another little girl or boy to come visit.
Most of the animals played in the snow gleefully. Perhaps four or five of the chickens stayed cozied up in their brick and mortar coop, but everyone else (led boldly by Tomato) braved the elements and explored all afternoon. They each left their own kind of tracks, proving once and for all that mostly what our animals do all day is walk in circles.
Some of our bravest poultry souls exploring Friday afternoon.
That dragon in the background, by the way, is Zeke.
I haven't really shared much of him yet.
We are full of secrets.
Chanta seemed to enjoy the snow more than anyone.
Can you see Romulus in the back ground here? Supervising. Of course.
Hello, Green Goose garden gate, old friend.
I miss you. But I haven't forgotten you.
We have big plans together this year, you and me.
Enjoy your slow, cold drink and sleep soundly.
For in a few short weeks, we get to the business of GROWING.
Our front gate sign
Today, most of the snow is already melted. Only what fell inside the shadows of our buildings is still gripping the dead grass there; and that is wildly perforated by every variety of animal tracks. We are very thankful both for the drink of moisture and the fun snowy afternoon as well as for the quick melt and conspicuous absence of power outages. We are so thankful for heat, for a full pantry and freezer, and for animals who are healthy and happy enough to endure a rare winter storm.
Heather, my Canadian friend who writes at New House New Home New Life, reports a respectable ten inches of snow this week! My cousin in Colorado celebrates snow regularly, too. It is slightly less of a fact of life for us here in Oklahoma, but we love it when it does come. How about you? Is your late December snowy?
Brr! Stay Cozy!!