Even if you go over the edge, the thing to do the very next day is get right back in the saddle. Driving that tractor in the woods in deep snow is really not very fun, just for the record. I’m pretty good at maneuvering it around, but I don’t like it, and when I get frustrated, Frank has to take over. He knows tricks (that I’m slowly learning), but he keeps using words that like “sync” or “differential” like I’m supposed to know what the heck he’s talking about. We are going to try plowing ourselves a path in where we are cutting, and see if that will work better. Those big tires in deep snow is just a recipe for disaster. No traction.
Frank says we are going to hitch up the horses tomorrow or the next day, and try to ground drive them. Surely we know enough to do that. I, am course, am worried about what the heck with do with Polly. I think both she and Pearl will flip out if I try to separate them, and if we put blinders on Pearl and Prince with Polly wandering about freely, I think that’s a recipe for disaster right there. But, I’m also a worrier and a wimp, so who knows. The only way we are going to learn to use them is to use them.
We found about 500 bales of hay not too far away, for $4.00 a bale, which is a good price, so we grabbed it. The only problem is that he has no way to deliver it, so we’ve got to figure that bit out. We just got a delivery, so I have a couple of weeks to solve that problem. That’s not enough hay to last the winter, but it’s about half, I think.
Frank noticed today that we’ll have gone through half of our cut and stacked firewood by the end of the year. That’s not good. Not good at all! We have lots down at log length all over the place, but that now becomes a high priority as well. We’ve got to fill under the deck with firewood.
Little Ms. Wolverina still has us all smitten. She is just cute personified, and sweet as can be. She’s decided that chicken shit is more exciting than chickens, even, so between that and her favorite horse manure pile, she is mostly ignoring them and enjoying being a farm dog. The night is young and this will probably jinx it, but we had no house-breaking accidents today. She still doesn’t signal when she needs to go, but I have her outside relentlessly all day long, with routine power naps for her in the crate. It seems to be working. She tells me when she is sleepy by falling asleep on my boots, and barely budges when I take her inside and put her in the crate. Being a farm dog is hard work!