First things first. Before door repairs animals all need to be fed and checked on. As I was in-between the food and water portions of AM chores I went inside to warm up a bit. It was at that moment the person from the bank chose to come by and photograph the house. I have a writhing disdain for this person, regardless of who it is. They are the human avatars of my fear of losing the farm. They are sent out by your bank to document your home from the road and make sure you didn't abandon the property or what the condition is. Of course, my house had a door swinging off the hinges when she snapped it. Great.
The door is now repaired. It needed stronger, longer screws and a few moments with my screwdriver. The animals are all prepared for the cold nights coming these next two days. Temperatures are dropping into the single digits. I double checked on the lambing jug set up in the smaller sheep shed. It has clean hay, a heat lamp, and a bucket for water with extra electrolyte powder. Little Sean is in it a lot with Brick. You can see him up in that picture herd learning. He's doing well and has his tail banded and a fluffy mama to sleep beside while the winds blow.
Good news! I was able to mail a mortgage payment yesterday! I am not out of the woods, far from it, but it is a huge step towards resting easy. The monster is being slain, jab by jab. Spring has enough going on with lambing, kidding, spring butchering and meat pickups, chicks to get in brooders, seeds to plant, and a hawk to get dropping feathers - the last thing I want to worry about is my address. I am sticking to daily income goals and leaving some room for luck - good and bad - in my actual and emotional budget. But this is a huge step towards getting this place to solvent and comfortable, my loftiest goals.
Thank you to everyone who has been so kind with messages, comments, stories and emails this week. Thank you to the snarky people, too - which is really a very small percentage of my readers but they are providing a consistent service to me - someone to prove wrong. Cold Antler has made it six years, and as confusing as that may be to the people hired to keep taking its picture from the road - it still belongs to that weirdo farm woman who rides the dark horse. And it will a while longer if I have anything to do about it!