I wish I could say that I have done great and exciting things this weekend. But, alas, I have not. Friday we cleaned the barn of all and any hay from the feed room to the pens as I had found hay that I had delivered riddled with mold. Our feed dealers were very apologetic as they too had some of the same show up in their barn, and were happy to replace the hay. That meant trying to rake up all the bits that the sheep had eated around.
I should have known something from the start as they hadn't been eating with their normal "gusto". But the raking and hauling, plus hauling out the "infected" bales to the compost pile seemed exhausting to me. My DH had called in the heavy artillery by removing the snowblower from the garden tractor and hitching up the wagon.
The hay seemed everywhere...even the boys were not eating much of anything. There was not only hay on the surface of the corral, but since we'd had snow and frost during the week it had gotten wet and, using a technical term, "icky". It was hard to pry up from the frozen ground below.
Normally I don't mind cleaning the barn. It just seemed like it was a nasty job this time. So much so that even my DH, who is usually happy to help without complaint, likened it to one of the Twelve Labors of Herecules. He made point to mention the stables Herecules had to clean. (Did I mention he can be a Smart Ass?) ;-)
Right now we're in-between weather systems. I go out in the morning to frosty tires and snowy banks along the little stream that runs through our pasture. As soon as the sun has been up, it will become warm enough to work in a sweatshirt instead of a coat. Then as soon as the sun drops behind the mountain the cold settles in again. Then it's time to get a fire started in the woodburner for the cats to bake themselves by as they lay near it for the evening. I always wonder how they can lay there and not turn into cat puddles as it is so hot to me.
And I am sure that most of us in the Northern Hemisphere are in the same frame of mind right now. We find oursleves hungry for color and green. We want the wind to die down and the crocus to bloom to give us a sign that things will green up, eventually.
So, I'd like to leave everyone with this last picture my husband took a couple of summers ago. It's the same area of the stream in the photo above. It just shows that we do, indeed, green up in our part of Arizona. That the Earth will once again be lush and alive. A testament to life going on and beginning the cycle all over again.
I just need to be patient.