"Laughter is the sun that drives winter from the human face." *

I hope wherever you are you are recovering from the winter storm. I admit I was a bit skeptical when the weather stations all were breathless about all the "upcoming dangerous weather". It often seems the fear is the point of the news rather than, as we used to say, "improvise, adapt and overcome".

Still, I have to admit this has been a doozy. We got well over two feet of powder snow that would have been great back when my knees were up to skiing. My youngest daughter had a couple of her girlfriends over and they sledded the east pasture even into the face of the storm.

Our hill is kind of legendary, and was so long before we arrived. The mother of one of the girls, when she was a teen, sledded the same hill, and broke her hip and a couple of ribs. I have heard similar stories from neighbors who grew up around here. Despite the danger, they seemed to have fun, drank a lot of hot chocolate, ate some pizza and had a sleepover.

When they awoke (late in the morning for us farm folk!), The storm had worsened, and the other girl was wanted at home, a town just a few miles distant.

"No problem," I assured everyone, and we headed out to my truck.

Now, my truck is primarily a work vehicle and is generally stuffed to the gills with tools, parts, paraphernalia and detritus. Our first challenge was to clear away ear tags, lumber cutoffs and a large supply of dirty tarps so that everyone could fit in.

Then we headed downhill to the old railroad track that serves as our winter exit. The snow was so deep already that I had to engage the four wheel drive (I reckon it ages me, but "locking in the hubs," though no longer accurate, just seems to sound better) Just to get DOWN the hill.

The rest of the trip was just as challenging, but I don't think anyone but me was concerned. The state plows had not yet run, though the little local trucks were hard at it, and the entire trip was about powering through a foot or so of nearly untouched snow.

All's well that ends well, and the trip, though tense was uneventful.

The trip back DOWN our driveway from the top was similar to getting out, and was accomplished with a minimum of gnashing teeth.

And that's where the story turns...

This missive is already a mite too long, so I will try to shorten this up. The next day, the starter solenoid went bad on the truck, my wife's SUV is buried up to it's doors and probably won't get out before maybe June. When I tried to take out my (smallish) tractor, to clear the snow, it bellied out so it's wheels couldn't reach the ground for traction.

No problem, I thought, I'll just push my way out with the front loader until I get to traction again. That's when I sprung an internal leak in the hydraulics, leaving the bucket, and the tractor, nearly helpless.

After digging for several hours, I put the broken tractor away, and I have been reading seed catalogs ever since.

Reckon we're snowed in.

I still have frozen chickens for sale, both in the freezer and possibly a few laying hens in the winter coop... Mostly kidding, but their output this time of year does not endear them.

I am optimistically taking orders for this upcoming season as well. The website should be updated by the end of the week

Thanks for Listening,

Dave

(*Victor Hugo)

P.S.: The latest issue of Local Culture magazine, which we have spoken of before, is out. The link is here, but I encourage you to look into a subscription. It is something of a rarity in that it is a relatively new print journal in an era when most are headed away from print. I am in no way affiliated with them, and don't always agree with all of their contributors, but I find it comforting to peruse while sitting by the fire. It even has a local connection in that it now comes out of Grove City College. Just food for thought, and this issue may be their best yet.