Shrammed

We had a bit of snow yesterday, just enough to remind everyone here in Veryork that this winter is not like last winter. Last winter was so mild you wanted to build a bunker, but this year a week in the deep freeze has us all feeling a little scrappier, a little thinner.

Today I drive down to the butcher's shop to pick up the pork. I have backseat full of boxes and a freezer to fill. It's the main adventure of the day, but there are others things going on as well. A ewe named Grace has fallen down with the shakes, a bacterial infection. She was the ewe who experienced this before and I think the week of nights well-below zero gave her mild constitution the ol' what-for. Yesterday I made her a hospital unit in the small shelter on the hill and she was doing well this morning when I checked on her. She was trying to stand on her own and eating the hay and grain she was offered. She's looking much better, and in a few days of medicine and rest she should be right back to her old self.

Between the pipes, the temperatures, the tired ewe and the amount of firewood I am blasting through— I will admit to feeling a bit shrammed. But today should break the spell and they want highs in the thirties and (gasp!) forties, so it seems like fine weather to turn the truck into a delicious porcine hearse. Here's to warmth and puppies, both of which are in my immediate future.

(No, the puppy is not mine. It's Patty's new OES pup she is bringing home Saturday! She already named it Darla, but I insist on calling her Moneypenny)