Let it Snow!

Last night, as I snuggled under my quilt and worked on a needle point stocking, my husband and two dogs came in from being out in the snow.  The snow flakes were small and sharp.  All three of them were dusted in crystal-like snow flakes and had cold noses.  While the boys shook, drank a bowl full of water, circled and lay down on their pillows the husband and I reflected on the four winters we have experienced since moving north.

We moved to this area December 28, 2006.  That Friday was warm and damp.  By Saturday evening it began to rain.  By Sunday afternoon, it was snowing.  Within several weeks we experienced white outs, impassable roads and school closings as the temperature dropped to a wind- chilled
-33*F.  Worship services were canceled, stores closed and the outdoor dog was allowed in to warm himself by the fire. As we were renting a house at that time, we were only responsible for clearing the snow on our driveway.

Winter of 2007 was less severe, but we had a few days of school closing and missed worship service.  By now we had moved to our farm and the husband

pushed snow so we could get to the barn, chicken coop, pole shed and mailbox… as well as the driveway.  One especially snowy week end, he came into the house, snowflakes stuck to his beard, his nose as red as Rudolf’s- smiling ear to ear.  “Why do you look so happy?” I asked.  “They couldn’t get through to deliver the mail! I love living way out here.” he replied as he grabbed some hot chocolate and went back to work.

By 2008 we knew what to expect.  We placed snow fencing along the open field and shovels by the house entryways.  I had stocked the cupboards with canned soups, powdered milk and bread mix.  We were prepared to be snowed in for days.  Being called out is what I remember of that winter.

As a hospice nurse one of my duties includes making the final visit when a patient passes away. I pronounce the death, notify the doctor and coroner and when the family is ready I call the funeral home.  Our county was in a blizzard.  I called the funeral director. “Jay, don’t get to comfortable.” I warned, “I’m headed out for a death call.  I don’t know when I’ll need you but I just thought I’d give you a heads up.”  Jay’s family has lived in this area for many generations and told me he would head out soon. It was then I realized it would be slow going.  About a half mile from the home I saw Jay’s station wagon pulled over on a side road.  My cell phone went off.  “There is enough room for your truck over here.  I called the county they’re sending out a couple of guys.”  We waited for about 30 minutes and the biggest plow I have ever seen went up and down the road no less then three times. We flashed our lights and honked our horns in appreciation.  As I turned back on to the country road, I realized the snow drifts where taller then the 2500HD Chevy pick up I was driving.  The side mirrors gently scraped the snow walls the plow created.  The patient’s family was so gracious and relieved we made it.  I think that was the only visit I ever made wearing insulated work cover-alls and jacket.  

Last year was more of the same…cold, wind and snow. It was unusually dry and the effects were not felt until the spring when soil was turned and seeds planted.  We finally sold our snowmobiles. We weren’t using them as much as we thought we would.  The sleds were becoming very expensive apartments for the mice.  The snow machines fetched a fair price and we made some more improvements at the farm.

As I write this, it is December 21, 2010, the winter solstice.  Our area has had a daily average temperature around 14*F…half of normal for this time of year and we have received approximately 20 inches of snow.   Are we in for a long winter?  I don’t know.  I know I enjoy seeing the vibrant colors of the blue jays and cardinals against the white backdrop.  I know my St Bernard and St Bernard/ Husky mix love to perch on their snow mountains and watch the world.  I know my garlic and strawberries are insulated by the quiet blanket of snow.  I know this season will pass and soon it will be 90* with 100% humidity and I will long for today.

Merry Christmas and a Blessed New Year!

                    December 2010- Caliber- 4 years old- 

                   St Bernard/ Siberian Husky Mix

My birth name is Elisabeth but most people call me Lisa.  I have also been called wife, ex-wife, nurse, sister, daughter, friend, student and teacher. Second only to “mom,” Untah is my favorite designation.  I am very proud of this unusual title. It is a family name, but not from a long lost relative or a favorite grandmother from Sweden.  It is a made up name.  My oldest daughter was the only grandchild for many years. She and my sister Cathy were talking and laughing over funny ways to say each other’s name.  My daughter blurted out “Untah” and it became the substitute for Aunt.  My second daughter continued the habit of calling my sister Untah.  When Cathy’s girls were old enough to speak, I, too was blessed with the honor of this name. We would always know who was being beckoned because of who was calling out “Untah!”  When my brother married and had children, my sister became “Untah Cathy” and I became “Untah at the Farm.” I smile when I hear my nieces and nephews call out “Untah at the Farm” as they run to the phone so we can catch up on life’s events The closest pronunciation I can provide is “Un” as in the French word for one.  “Tah” rhymes with “duh”.

My family says I live on a farm.  Farmette may be accurate, but it is to fancy.  Property makes it sound like we don’t live here.  We are in a rural area on 16 acres, with 2 dogs, 2 cats and have plans to add goats and pigs. My garden measures 1500 square feet.  My husband hunts deer. I freeze and can wild and organically grown foods.  We have 2 dozen hens for eggs.  We have three roosters. One was given to us and is friendly and beautiful.  Two are from a clutch of eggs hatched this summer. We raise 24 meat chickens every other year. We are the closest thing to a farm my family knows.

Real farmers get up before the sun and milk, plow, till, move cattle, feed, water, harvest and check the weather…on the radio and in the sky.  They worry about crop yields and often live of off unit prices many years behind the cost of living.  Real farmers count on milk checks, depend on futures exchange and pray a lot.  Real farmers care about their animals and land.  Their accountants and ag consultants are on speed dial.  They drive pick up trucks and tractors. Though I share many of the qualities of a real farmer, I am not one.  I have the utmost respect for real farmers and am humbled to have them as neighbors.

All of that being acknowledged, we live at “Untah’s Farm”.