Getting Ready for Winter

The garden has officially tapped out. The last of the vegetables have been yanked, and what’s left of the plants now lives its second life as pig snacks. They seemed thrilled. Of course, pigs are always thrilled, unless you’re late with breakfast. Then you’re dead to them.

The hay is all in, wrapped tight in those big white marshmallow bales lining the driveway like we’re preparing for some kind of giant's campfire cookout. All I need now is an equally giant graham cracker and a chocolate bar the size of a barn door.

Next on the never-ending to-do list: clearing out the broiler chickens, ducks, and meat goats. Yes, freezer camp is officially in session. And let’s be honest—we all knew where this was going. I raise them with love, but I also raise them with gravy in mind.

The yard is slowly getting cleaned up. Very slowly. “Organizing” the yard is a bit like trying to tidy up after a tornado with a rake and a good attitude. We’re wrangling tractor implements into their winter homes, tightening up the barn, and trying to convince the goats that, no, the rafters are not a jungle gym.

We’ve started migrating the pigs toward their winter quarters one fence panel at a time. Because once the ground freezes, driving in fence posts is like trying to spear a brick with a popsicle stick. And I’ve got better things to do than throw tools and curse at dirt.

The snow blade will go on the tractor last, of course. It’s the traditional final act before the snow gods dump three feet on us the very next morning. Oh, and I never put the summer tires on the truck. Didn’t forget—just didn’t care. And now, while everyone else is battling for appointments at the tire shop, I’m sitting here feeling smug with my already-winter-ready wheels. Lazy? Or brilliant? You decide.

This year’s big upgrade: a wood-fired hot air furnace. Yep, central heating with a thermostat. A thermostat! What is this, the Ritz?! Jim’s got a cement pad to pour, a chimney to install, and ductwork to run. But hey, we got all the parts before the tax credit deadline, so at least the government and I will both be warm and happy this winter.

Of course, my beloved wood stove isn’t going anywhere. I still like to light it up for the ambiance, the smell, and the smug satisfaction of heating with real fire like a frontier woman. But heating the finished basement with something other than fumes and prayer? That’ll be a treat.

And in the “fun but completely unnecessary” department, I’m ordering sleigh runners for the buggy. Because if I’m going to freeze my face off, I might as well do it while pretending I’m in a Hallmark movie. Talon will have to get used to sleigh bells on his harness. He’s been a pretty good sport about everything—except fly spray. That evil spray bottle is clearly trying to kill him. Good thing flies don’t come out in the snow or we’d never leave the barn.

So yes, we’re getting ready for winter. Slowly. Grudgingly. With the usual mix of determination and muttered profanity. But we’re getting there. Because like it or not, winter’s coming—and she’s already circling the block looking for parking.

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