shtf « Robin Writes

If I don’t talk about the weather, the bitter cold won’t actually exist, right? So I won’t discuss how, this morning INSIDE the house, the temp was 55 . . . which is fine for some reason if you’re outside. I won’t talk about how it took FOREVER for the furnace to kick on or how GODAWFUL it felt when I was breaking ice in the water trough at a totally miserable 3 degrees.

If my feet ever thaw out, I’m sure I’ll be able to ignore the weather . . .

I haven’t been to the greenhouse since Missouri became the new Arctic, but I imagine that, in spite of heat lamps, everything is dead. No biggie, we’ll start over—lesson learned!

The horses had ice on their muzzles too—and Cody had a little snow on her back. Must have been rolling, because we didn’t get any precip last night. Of course, Cav is often spotted SLEEPING in the snow. Guess here is still better than South Dakota! They do have a nice shed to go into, but since they’ve never seen one before, that might take a little more time to get used to.

I’ve also learned that Cody can be a little hard to spot; no pun intended. She blends into the leaves and snow covering the pasture . . . sometimes I have to look twice!

It’s not so bad out there—the only thing freezing are my eyeballs.

Well, enough about the weather; I’m ignoring it, right? Besides, in a couple days it’ll be 50.J

So they say . . .

In the meantime, prepping in on hold, so to speak. We’re getting ready for Christmas! The stockings are hung, but often have to be removed so we get more heat from the fireplace . . . Finally found a spot for a tiny tree—the one we had at the bookstore—but half the lights went out. Que sera, sera! And of course, no space on it for all my antique ornaments . . . seems odd after all these years . . . decades . . .

And no, we aren’t actually putting prepping on hold—see, here’s the thing: once you’re prepared, you go into maintenance mode. We restock whatever supplies we use and we make repairs when needed. Like the water pumps in the pasture, for instance. Good thing we caught that before the temps dropped. It seems little Cav was rubbing his head on the top and a half-assed fix from the previous owner came apart.

But my husband had experience replacing the one by the house a few weeks ago, so it all worked out. And, he bought extra parts for the other pumps, just in case!

We’re also making adjustments as we go, such as laying in a larger supply of firewood—which means cutting down more dead trees. Such a challenge as soon it warms up a bit—we’ll need to find dead trees. In winter. Yikes!

Also, we’re gonna need more hay—the challenge here is not finding it or buying it, but storing it. You’d think, with a 40×60 barn, we’d have plenty of room. You’d think . . .

Well, time to go break ice in the water trough again. Merry Christmas and happy prepping! Only 90 days until spring!

As you already know, a few weeks ago I found out about four herds of wild mustangs that were endangered: starving, neglected, and headed for auction if they weren’t adopted. It was suggested that you adopt at least two, so I applied for a mare and a foal. I was approved, and finally arranged transportation for them.

They arrived last night.

Freezing cold, around 23 degrees, but clear, with a nice full moon. Jerry, of Pegasus Equine, pulled his giant rig through the gates around 10:00 p.m. In order to unload mine, he first had to bring down two others.

And one, I swear, was The Black Stallion. You know, of Walter Farley fame? My absolute dream horse, and I finally, finally got to see him! Okay, sure, I know it wasn’t him, but still . . . he had a high old time, calling to the neighbors’ mares across the road; and they were sure answering him!

Then, at last, my two came off the trailer. I am pleased to introduce Catnip’s Christmas Cody and her colt, Catnip’s Comanche Cavalry:

They ambled through the pasture, grazing a bit, and I gave them hay and water. Chestnut, our visiting horse, paced back and forth along the cross-fence, probably all night.

I finally went to bed around midnight, but still couldn’t sleep—I see a nap coming on this afternoon, if I can tear myself away from the windows!

This morning, still 23 degrees, I put out more hay and refilled their water bucket and gave Chestnut her grain and hay. Broke the ice on the water trough too, naturally. After the requisite thawing and a little more coffee, I went back outside.

Both Cody and Cav watched me as I went into their pasture; earlier, they’d approached within 10-12 feet—of course, I was carrying an armload of hay. Chestnut was looking over the fence, but no longer pacing, so I fed her a carrot and opened the gate. She ambled on through, glanced at the others, and started nibbling on grass.

Cody and Cav stared at that gate for a minute, listening to Chestnut but not looking around at all, then they walked on through to the north pasture. After a minute or so, Chestnut followed them and I walked back over and shut the gate.

They found the hay, then the water trough; Cav seems partial to the mineral block. Chestnut is enamored with Cav—she follows him around, they’ve touched noses a few times, and once, apparently, he gave her a little nip because she quickly put him in his place. Cody looked up at his squeal as if to say, “Knock it off, you two!” and went back to her hay.

They’re moving around as a group now, just a couple hours after being in the same pasture. Cav is having lunch; or maybe it’s his third breakfast . . . and, as you can see, Cody is making herself at home: