Chauntel, back again. Let's see - it's December in the North Country, prime season for the natives. This week the locals were able to peddle around in our shorts and tee-shirts, blow up a bridge, AND got thick powder snow, which, as you know, is the best kind of snow. Unless you're on snowshoes. Or cross-country skis. But that's besides the point.
Christmas was pretty fantastic. My friends dropped me texts about the sweet iPods and snowboarding paraphenalia and pearl necklaces their parents gave them. What did I get for Christmas? The 1,022-page tome Lameness: Recognizing and Treating the Horse's Most Common Ailment from Daddy (to add to my already voluminous collection of equine science manuals) and a semi-automatic rifle from Domina (to start my own personal arsenal of freedom). The sad thing is that I was actually overjoyed and delighted to recieve such presents. You can take the girl out of the North Country...you can finish that sentence, it's a little painful for me.
The cattle are missing their grass, but dutifully eat everything put in front of them. Twosday is cold and grumpy and lets me know it whenever I'm around. It's funny how much the cows love Dad. They love him more in the summer when they know it's about time to be rotated into the next pasture, but they're still pretty excited to see his tractor rolling down the hill with a big fat round bale on the back. Dad also has a trio of bulls on the hill - Pico, his black Highland son, and a robust red Angus. Whenever I'm riding my horse Isidor around them, he gets all snorty and tries to challenge them while I'm reining him back and praying the bulls won't take up the offer and charge (Isidor's a little guy, and Pico and son are horned). But they always just stand there, chew their cud, and give me a look like "Hey, lady, your donkey there is an idiot". Thanks, guys. So much for the "noble steed".
Chickens are cold and are holding back on the eggs. I'm sure we'll be back in full swing soon enough. Our three Shetland sheep - Newton, Veronica and Contessa - refuse to learn how to be pets like I was hoping. I just can't wait 'til we can shear them and I somehow find time to learn how to knit. They're due to have lambs, as well.
Hm. That's about all. Mom can give you the full scoop later. Paix!
Chauntel
