Ode to the Barn Coat

It's been friggin' cold here for the past week. My small ornamental pond is, we think, frozen solid through. So much for the fish. I think the larger pond is still okay, though we had to turn the pump off because the water could no longer flow through the frozen filter in the skimmer box.

Admittedly, I'm a total wuss when it comes to the cold. I just don't like it, and I've completely released those dreams of a beautiful New England farmstead as I freeze my rear off in the mountains of mid-Atlantic Maryland. I'm not even north of the Mason-Dixon line, for heaven's sake, and I've decided that I never will be! This is as far north as I go. It's not just the growing season thing anymore; it's the Danielle doesn't like the bitter cold thing.

The water has been freezing overnight and during the day, so we've been changing the water out 2-3 times a day for the animals. The other morning I took two chicken waterers out with me that had defrosted inside overnight. I fed the cats, our three goats, and walked down to feed the pigs. By the time I got back, the bases had frozen on again, and I couldn't get them off. I made due with the rubber tubs, which are much easier to deal with in the winter because we can just toss them upside down and give them a good stomp to get the ice out. The piggies have all these little mini ice blocks strewn about their pasture from the past week—it looks as if we went a little crazy with the salt licks.

My one saving grace has been my glorious barn coat—lined with thick, nubby, sherpa fleece, my barn coat is my best friend. It's warm, soft, durable, and does an excellent job of keeping out the bitter wind. I love my barn coat! When the barn door froze in place, and I leaned into it to get out—a little too hard with eggs in my pockets—my barn coat didn't mind a bit and kept that goopy mess nicely contained within the pocket, just waiting until I got inside and could turn it inside out in the mudroom sink to give it a nice wash.