This is what I woke up to this morning when I went outside to milk the goats. The white specks are snowflakes, really, truly, they are!
The goats were a little bit grumpy and hungry when I got to the barn. They are not particularly fond of snow, since it covers up all the delicious green stuff they like to eat.
In the meantime, Steve brought in more fire wood. What an excellent provider he is! He cuts the trees down, splits them, and makes sure the wood box is never empty. Bring on the cold!!!
And after milking, there are the never ending dishes... It's not my favorite job. I'd rather be knitting, to be sure. But who am I to complain? Everyone in our family has chores. Steve brought in fire wood. Kai fed the chickens and collected their eggs. Lukas dried the dishes.
And Eva's job? Make messes and noise. But honestly, I am so glad she is able to make messes. She was sick for two days last week, and it was scary: high fever, lethargy, vomiting, and non-stop crying. She is all better now, full of piss and vinegar, as Steve likes to put it so elegantly. Here she is, getting ready for playing in the snow.
Lukas got into the snow man making spirit. I know, you Germans or Minnesotans or Alaskans roll your eyes at this "snow", scoffing, but hey, it's wet, it's white, it's cold, and you can make it into a snow man, even though there is not that much of it!
My father called me this morning from Germany, telling me that they are drowning in snow. I remember my childhood days in Germany, waking up to a world completely blanketed in white fluffy-ness, walking to school in snow that came up to my thighs, and sledding for hours with my sisters.
Here are two pictures he sent me this morning. It's the street where I grew up.
So I am used to snow in the winter. But there is nothing like being snowed in here in Marblemount, tucked right up against the mountains and the mighty Cascades. We live one mile up a forest service road, which doesn't get plowed at all. Some winters, we can't get Steve's four wheel drive truck out to the Highway, let alone my mini van. That means we either hunker down, eat my canned food from the garden, raide my cheese cave, and don't see anyone for days, or we pay someone to plow us out. Sometimes, the snow gets so heavy that people can't do that, even with a bulldozer. One year, this happened in conjunction with more than a week of power outage. You can imagine our cabin fever!
Ohhh boy, the kids are coming in. Wet snow shoes, hats, mittens, coats, socks, red cheeks, cold noses, hungry appetites. I guess it's time to feed them - and then sit down for home schooling.