We moved from what Florida called a farm to what here counts only as a hobby farm, which characterizes it well. Our animals are essentially freeloaders. We knew we had to build an enclosed barn for the three goats because they are the most vulnerable to drafts and cold, but the horse, pony, and donkey could also use shelter. After much planning and research, weconverted a three sided shed into a barn with three stalls and a sliding door. We also updated the electric for bucket heaters. That worked out well. The animals are sheltered from wind and cold inside the barn on cold nights and during bad weather.
We moved up here for a good job and my husband is an essential type worker, so the Friday of the big blizzard (12/23), We packed into my big older truck to get him to work about seven miles away. The temperature was close to -36 with the windchill. Little did we know, lurking along our rural road, was Mr. Drift. At the point my husband’s office was calling to cancel the day’s appointments, we were right in the nest of Mr. Drift. I was carefully turning the truck around, in a 73 point turn, when Mr. Drift grabbed hold of the rear tires, let out a maniacal laugh, and my poor truck showed one of those really bad lights on the dash. I think it was a wrench. Drivetrain issue. Our neighbor, the same wonderful folks that invited us over for a Fourth of July party (which we assumed was so they could identify our bodies when we ended up freezing to death later) pulled the truck out of the clutches of Mr. Drift. Gave us a wry grin and said, “welcome to Minnesota“. I limped the poor truck to the mechanic the following week. As it turns out, my truck is a hypochondriac. It was really cold and it just didn’t feel like working that day. Probably was intimidated by the real farm trucks sneering at its clean underbody.
The very next day, Christmas Eve, our heater broke. Now, if you’re living in a mild climate, this is a mild annoyance. Along the lines of, “Hey, we should put on a sweater and snuggle by the fire.” If you live in Minnesota, however, this is a holy-snot-icicles-hanging-from-my-nose three alarm EMERGENCY! We did some troubleshooting and tried to replace parts ourselves, including the compressor, to no avail. My husband bundled up and took the car (the truck was still in the box of shame) to head out for parts and a couple of space heaters. Thankfully, a lovely soul of an electrician from the parts store came out and determined it was the control board. He temporarily bypassed it until the replacement came in. As he was leaving, he waved, chuckled to himself, and said, “welcome to Minnesota!”
So, we‘re still here. We’ve learned the ways of the snow blower, reminded ourselves how to handle driving in winter conditions, revived the ancient art of shoveling, and how to use all those weird pieces of clothing to assemble outfits based on the temperature.We have missed the snow these last fifteen years, having lived in colder climates before we moved down to Florida.
What we don’t miss, as we dress out to do morning chores and chisel frozen horse turds out of the stalls, are flying roaches the size of drones coming for your soul as soon as you open the door. Vicious little scorpions waggling their business ends at you whenever you’re working on fences. Fire ants silently sneaking up your limbs to find choice spots to bite simultaneously. People driving like they’re late for the rapture and you can’t come because you don’t go to their church/ascribe to their politics (all of which are on prominent display on their vehicles). So, they go roaring on by because of an imagined offense, cutting you off, honking, and screaming obscenities while you cower and say a quiet prayer that they won’t pull out an uzi or AK-47.
We can’t wait for next winter!
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