This past weekend, Steve and I took a much-needed break. We went to a favorite inn in Vermont, and shopped at the King Arthur Flour Store, at three indie bookstores, and at two horse tack shops. I came away with excellent chocolate, a fascinating

 (I love nonfiction about science that I know nothing about, written in an engaging and witty way), and a new  (some women like handbags, some of us like barn tools!) I also got a bale of straw.

 

The weather on Sunday was a welcome change from the bitter cold and snow that we’ve been having. It was 38° F! So warm that I saw people shoveling in tee-shirts. But, the forecast was for the arctic blast to arrive in full force that night. Puddles on the ground would become sheet ice. As I expected, the path from my backdoor to the coops looked like this when we returned home on Sunday night. Smooth, hard and dangerous. Too bad I don’t do the winter olympic sport of luge.

 

I can’t put down sand or ice melt because it would ruin the lawn underneath. The straw, though, provides traction and can be raked up in the spring. Straw is made up of the tough stems of wheat. The animals don’t eat it, and it is not absorbent, but it will mix in and freeze with the snow melt and provide a safe path for the next few weeks. I think that it looks rather cheerful.

There’s four feet of snow out there, but I’m not cursing Old Man Winter yet. The truth is, that that much snow is wondrous.. Here is my street as the snow comes down.

 

My neighbor can’t see outside because of the icicles, but my view is of a sparkling ice curtain.

 

Yes, there’s been some shoveling (and more shoveling) to do. But the mail is still delivered!

 

On a walk yesterday with Lily I saw one of my favorite harbingers of spring. Pussy Willow. It’s not usually framed against such a pure white backdrop.

 

Looking up in that tree, there was this abandoned bird’s nest. I’ve never seen one with a cap of snow like that.

 

Lily and I think that Old Man Winter has been putting on quite a show. When the sun is shining and the temperature is in the 20s, it’s downright enjoyable.

 

 

However, not everyone has the same perspective.

Last Saturday I traveled to New York City for a black tie event. It was a chance to put something on my feet other than insulated barn boots, and to wear something sparkly. It was a chance to have dinner in the glorious Gotham Hall.

 

But, most importantly, it was a chance to keep my good friend, Karen Pryor, company at the Show Dogs of the Year Award Banquet, where she was being honored with a Trainer of the Year Award.

I’ve never been into the “dog fancy” and I have issues with the AKC and breeders who focus on looks to such extremes that dogs suffer from genetic predispositions to diseases and have physical issues as basic as being unable to breathe freely. I didn’t go to the awards because I am enthralled with that world of groomed and fluffed dogs. I went because whenever I have a chance to travel and spend time with Karen, I do.

This is a competitive group of people. The dogs that won year-end awards have been campaigned on an intense schedule. Behind each dog is a team of people – owners, handler, groomer, and more. I’ve heard stories of the politics of the show ring and the cutthroat culture of dog shows. Which is why it was so surprising to me how the evening unfolded.

Accepting an award, a man who has been showing dogs his entire adult life said, “This is the best year I’ve ever had, and not because of the wins. There has been a camaraderie this year I’ve not experienced before.” (I’m paraphrasing, but that’s the gist.) As each winner spoke at the podium, the same thing was said over and over. That there was a new sense of community, and because of that good will, that there was a joy in the competition. Profuse and genuine thanks were given, not just to their own team, but to all of the people that they competed with and interacted with on the show circuit.

Sitting at our table was the owner of the Obedience Dog of the Year. I’ve heard about how tough those trainers can be, and I’ve heard about how severe their methods can be. I confess to being jaded and wary. Yet there was this lovely woman – Victory Hulett (what an apt name!) who (in promotional materials) says that she gets results with motivational play. Seated with Victory, was her husband, who was beaming with pride. I talked with them about their relationship and his part in her success. I came away thinking that Reign, their brilliant Border Collie, succeeded because his world was filled with love.

Was it a coincidence, then, that the Trainer of the Year was someone who’s message for the last thirty years has been one of positive interactions between species? Of letting go of dominance and instead working to the yes, to the willing, to the cooperative? A sea change is defined as a broad transformation. I was witness to it last Saturday night.

The next day Karen introduced me to one of her favorite places in the city – the Morgan Library, where there was a special exhibition of Lincoln’s writings. His genius and his humanity was there to read in his own hand. There is so much going on in the world right now that is horrible and barbaric. It’s depleting. But this weekend I felt like I was on a boat, being lifted and turned by the sea change. Let’s all try to follow that tide.

It’s official. We’ve had record-breaking snowfall this winter. And winter isn’t over yet. The Valentine’s Day storm brought another foot, plus, of snow, and high winds are making drifts of monster proportions. This was the scene on Sunday morning that my intrepid shoveling men faced.

 

By the afternoon my son waded out, just to see what it’s like to walk through epic snow.

 

Steve shoveled. And shoveled. I think that we need a snow blower. Perhaps something like

. He resists. What do you think?

 

This is the path to the Little Barn.

 

The goats get their paths shoveled, too. I fear that they are now very out of shape (more so than usual!) because there’s not much exercise that one can get when one’s paddock has been reduced to a snow canyon. Goats digest their food in their rumens – and to break down the tough forage, a lot of fermentation goes on, which acts as a natural furnace. To keep them warm I’ve been feeding extra hay. The goats are rather enjoying this winter!

 

The rabbit has had a path shoveled just for her. I don’t know what we’ll do when it snows again – there’s no place left to toss it.

 

This morning dawned sunny, but the temp remained at zero. That didn’t stop the hens from coming outside to get scratch grains. The extra carbohydrates will compensate for the calories that they need to burn to stay warm.

 

The winds, though, are fierce today, and the hens prefer their coops. Lucky for them, I designed them to be sunny, spacious and airy. Inside, the temperature is a comfortable 20° F.

 

There’s just one thing to do on a day like this. Find a sunny spot and wait for spring.