Winter is Coming

I am one of those people who read the Game of Thrones books and has been analyzing the HBO serialization with concern.  Two things the books capture in more grim detail: winter is coming and winter does not give a f*ck about who lives or dies. 

Winter is Coming

It has been a wonderfully mild spring so we are already moving the firewood forward and cutting/splitting fresh oak that it can start to cure.

With every piece of wood moved, Stoic searches for rodents.

When we take a break, Stoic climbs the pile for a better view and  remains on alert.

Hay delivery

The last few years we have fed large round bales through the winter.

They are delivered before the first snow and a neighbor moves them all up hill.  I roll them down hill as we have need.  Either my calculations were bad this last fall or the sheep have wasted more hay than normal.  Of course if anyone is to blame for not taking into account wastage, it is me.

Sheep are not interested in thrift.

There is way too much ice to have large bales of hay moved around, so it is time to resort to the time tested method of feeding small bales.  In the loft of our small barn we can fit 50-80 bales depending upon their size.  More can be fit in the storage side of the barn.

A 120 bales delivered with two of my three helpers ready to go.

Thanks to them I only had to carry 116 bales up the hill to the barn

The third helper was in the loft doing the stacking.  

It was cold enough, I don't even care that this guy could reach through to steal some nibbles.

118 bales later.

The Icelandic Sheep approve of the new hay.

When I came in this man-pup was doing push-ups.  I guess I need to find some harder jobs.

Alvin!

Throughout the late summer and fall chipmunks (aka ground squirrels) can be seen collecting pine cones.  Those cones are collected so that the pine nuts can be consumed throughout the winter months.

Chipmunks do not hibernate through the whole winter but they interrupt long periods of sleep and slowed metabolism with bouts of feasting and, eventually, cleaning out the burrows.

By the time you get to late January, the garbage starts to pile up and they bring it out onto the snow.

Baby It's Cold Outside

Some members of the pack have a bad case of cabin fever.  Others have learned to embrace whatever the moment brings.

Dude, turn up the heat

Stoic has a unique way of communicating the fact he thinks it is past time I turn up the heat.
Maybelle, always willing to help her short-coated friends.

Boot chains

A few years ago I was walking in St. Paul when woman in her early twenties passed me in a rush.  "She's gonna wipe out," I thought.  Sure enough before she made it to the crosswalk she was lying on her back.  Helping her up we realized her shoe was missing.  Her feet went out from underneath her with enough force to throw her Croc fifteen feet ahead of her.

I've landed on my back once or twice as well, both times without serious injury.  Still, I think I'd like reduce my chances of repeating the experience.

Like the rest of the country this year, it has been unseasonably warm but I finally had need to break out the boot chains Thursday morning.  A rubber ring holds chains of teeth to the underside of my boots, gripping concrete through the snow or cutting into ice.

They're a little heavy and the boots feel a bit different when they're on, but they do the job well and, unlike similar products, they stay securely in place.  They're definitely better than landing on your back.

With them we went from inching along to being able to return to our normal pace.

They pinch just enough that you don't want to wear them unless their necessary.

The Doc Martens are notoriously slick on snow or ice, but not anymore.

Turkeys near the University of Minnesota.

Bring It

So far it has been an amazingly warm winter.  That doesn't rule out the possibility that the second half of the year could be great for snow.

We usually have several months where it is too cold for large snowstorms.  I am hopeful that the next couple of months will remain warmer than average, increasing the opportunities for warm moist air to interact with below freezing temps.  If that happens we salvage a season of snow sports.

I don't care for skis and snowmobiles never held any allure.  I do like walks in the woods and snowshoeing is a natural extension.

A few years back I got my first pair.  Military surplus was the only place my desire for quality and price met a product that would bear my weight.

The shoes themselves were fine, but the binding were terrible.  Sometimes I could get a good walk without much work but more times than naught I was readjusting and tightening them every hundred yards or so.

Enter Marc's Snowshoe bindings.   They attached easier than advertised and feel great on the feet.  I'm looking forward to the chance to try them out in the field.

Someday soon the weatherman will say "a big storm is on the way."  I'll only have one response, "Bring it!"

  

Feeding hay

In ten years of keeping livestock this is the latest we've gone into the fall before feeding hay.  The weather gets a lot of the credit but so does the fact that we had fewer lambs than normal this summer and the pasture is at full health.

The problem with small bales is getting them and, since we do not have a large barn, storing them.

The problem with large bales is moving them and the amount of hay the animals waste.

Good relations with the neighbors can help get the bales in place.  Over the years I have learned to place them uphill from where the sheep will be fed.  The bride and I can roll them down hill has needed.

Every year I have tried something a little different to try to reduce the amount of waste.  Getting hay off the ground helps.  Using cattle panels with sheep sized cut outs helps a little more.  Accepting that some amount of waste is inescapable doesn't help with the problem, but it does help one's mental health.  Still every year I try something a little different based upon what I have learned in the past.  This year I am using some scrap lumber to build a large rectangular feeder.

I am thankful for some quality hay this year.  Best hay I have ever fed.  If you're local and in the market, drop me a line.  I have a source to recommend.

Winter is Coming

Winter is coming and I get an evolutionary urge, but I never seem to go.

Too Many Sport's Bras: A Long Winter's Coming

Originally Published August 10, 2014

Some people attempt to predict the severity of the oncoming winter by the color or prevalence of wooly worms, the hair density along the nape of a cow's neck, or if hogs are witnessed gathering sticks (in those few places where hogs are still allowed to enjoy their short existence with exposure to the outdoors).  Since I have moved to the upper Midwest I watch another indicator for my clues about the coming winter: the prevalence of spandex-clad homo sapiens in the area's parks, trails, and other public spaces.

Pyrrharctia isabella,: they say the thinner the brown band, the harsher the approaching winter. Yeah right!In our modern age most of us do little to prepare for winter.  Few of us stack firewood or even fill the larder in anticipation of long winter nights chilled within an inch of our lives and secluded from humanity.  Life in the modern world has leveled out the seasons a bit.  We still might need to be prepared for a few days of isolation or power loss but we are no longer facing month long bouts of self-sufficiency.

The biggest deprivation we continue to face is the most obvious: warm weather.  The deprivation is greatest the farther north you travel and by the time you reach Minneapolis, you can go half the year where feeling good and being outside are mutually exclusive.  In these northern climes the human mind, consciously or not, seeks to expand the body's exposure to the feel-good days of summer.  Business people recognize this fact, just compare and contrast the number of restaurants, bars, coffee shops and delis in the north with outdoor patios to those in the south.  They may be abandoned from October to May but for the rest of the year they are jam packed.

I like to walk and most of my walking takes place within ten miles of my home and I am more likely to see a wolf than a rollerblader.  Once every two weeks or so I take a tour of some part of the Twin Cities, part for a change of venue, part to acclimate the dogs to different environments, and partly to watch the strangest of the domesticated species: people.

Trust me, the more you see in August, the worse the coming winter.People watching is fun but it is no secret that I do not like crowds.  In small groups or as individuals, human beings are harmless enough but as mobs they are unpredictable and dangerous.  Other than the occasional baseball game, you probably won't find me at any event catering to large masses of people.  I have never been to a dance club.  Luckily, I am only interested in the kind of bar that opens before the morning traffic gets too bad.

This weekend was no more special than any other weekend of the summer, and I felt nearly claustrophobic while walking beside Minneapolis' West River Parkway.  I can appreciate artfully worn yoga pants as any other American man, but I found myself overwhelmed at the crowds of spandex washing over the West metro.   Don't get me started on all the cyclists.  They were thick as locusts on Egyptian wheat fields.  The city really should The winter was so bad, they almost had to eat the neighborhood cyclist. issue a limited number of cycling permits per season.  The proceeds could be used to build dedicated cycling lanes across the city, and to build whipping posts for street cyclists who run red lights or use walking paths when there are clearly marked cycling lanes on the road.  

I would've had to call for someone to pick me up if I hadn't taken the opportunity to cross over into St. Paul on a couple of occasions.  By some strange ecological shift, outdoor exercise is far less common on the east side of the river.  Homo Sapiens on that side of the river are much more likely to express their need to be outside by going fishing or driving out to a cabin in Wisconsin. 

A clear-thinking individual would postulate that the my sport's bra index of human behavior is a backward-looking indicator: a reflection of our previous, abnormally long, winter.  But clear-thinking individuals rarely make predictions about the future, or do anything else that is very interesting for that matter.  So embracing that long-standing human tradition of spurious correlations, I am predicting the worst winter since Laura Ingalls Wilder about starved to death.  You'll have to decide for yourself how to best prepare.  I am going to take another walk today, but maybe I'll risk the deer flies of rural Dunn County to the Lycra clad swarms currently infesting Hennepin county's parks.