Surviving the Cold

When we hear that an arctic front is moving south, we prepare for extreme cold.  We bank as much snow as possible against the house and barn walls to keep the cold out.  We also made sure the downstairs wood stove was ready to go, with a good supply of wood nearby.  Lighting the stove in the basement keeps the floor warm, which makes an incredible difference to the comfort level on the main floor, and it also keeps stuff from freezing in the cold room.

The horses were both born and bred in the Cariboo and don't seem to mind the cold.  We have horse blankets and space in the barn, but most winters, we don't use either of these things.  We just make sure the horses have warmed water to drink and give them extra hay.  When the temperature dropped to near -40 recently, I let them out into the area where we store the round bales of hay and they were able to free-feed all night long.  Now that it has warmed up and they're back in their paddock, Monty is protesting.

(photo by Laura Kelsey)

Moonlight Interlude

The night's silence was broken by the sharp, explosive WWHHOOOF! of air through horse nostrils, waking me.  For a few seconds, I lay still, listening.  When I heard the horses' alarm signal again, then once more,  I jumped out of bed, threw the window open, and scanned the barnyard for trouble while yelling, "What's going on over there?!"

I could see the horses staring intently toward the bottom of the field.  Everything else seemed normal, but Monty blew again.  I went downstairs and let the dogs out to start investigating while I slipped into a snowsuit and boots.  Floyd's big, booming bark rang out, but it was the sound of his "Guard Dog is Now on Duty" announcement, not the more excited bark he gives when he spots an intruder.  Charlie, who only barks when he's alarmed or playing, wasn't saying anything.

It seemed that there was no problem out there, but I was dressed, so I went out anyway to look around.  The full moon lit the field brightly.  Monty was putting on a show, prancing out into the field with his tail up, like a war charger going to meet the enemy, but the dogs beside him were just sniffing around calmly.  Bree had stopped paying attention altogether.

Probably, a predator had passed by and the horses hadn't liked it.  We've had lots of wolves in the area lately and seen their tracks after they've hunted their way down the creek.  There have also been lynx tracks everywhere in the past few days.  However, there are also more rabbit and vole tracks than I've ever seen, so the predators should be well fed.

Echoing Floyd, I made my own announcement, calling out, "Whoever you are, just keep on moving!  There's a human on guard duty here, too!"  Then I stood for a few minutes enjoying the moonlight and the sharpness of the -15 degree air on my face, before calling the dogs in and going back to bed for the final hour of the night.

In praise of hot flashes

I've spent most of my life being cold.  Now, I've reached the age when I have hot flashes, and I just love them, especially in winter.  I'll often wait inside until a hot flash hits, then run outside to do some chores.  The feel of the icy air on my skin is exquisite--something I never thought I'd say.

Today, I saw Monty waiting near the well, which is his way of asking for a drink, so I went out to give him some water.  This is a job that Floyd always does with me.  He likes me to throw the last bit of water in the bucket for him so he can chase and bite it.

I carried a drink to Monty...

but it seems he really only wanted a kiss!

November pasture

The pasture is still looking pretty good, for November.  There are green shoots for the animals to find, so we're not feeding them their full hay ration yet.  We give them hay at night but let them go hungry in the morning for a while so they'll search out the good bits that they've missed before.

Monty is doing a good job of foraging.

Dr. Charles' Blackfly Ointment

Charles has been making his blackfly ointment for the horses.  This is something he has used every summer for many, many years. 

The blackflies are small, biting insects that drive the horses crazy.  If we don't do something about it, the horses end up with great scabby patches on all their tender areas.  The ointment works like a charm to keep this from happening, if Charles puts a bit on them every day or two.  The horses love it and let him work it into their ears and apply it on their chests, udders, etc.

He makes it from a secret blend of herbs infused in oil.  Some of the herbs are insect repellants that work well enough to give the horses some relief.  The others are healing herbs for any bites that they already have.  The oil is soothing, too.

This year, for the first time,  we might try selling some.

Dog cookies (and runaway horses)

I made some soup this morning, so I made a batch of dog biscuits at the same time.  The stock was ready, since I'd had it simmering on the cookstove all day yesterday.  I took out a cup before adding vegetables to the rest for my own dinner.

The cookies are very simple (like nearly everything I do!).  I put two cups of flour in a bowl, added a bit of baking powder (maybe 1/2 tsp) and a couple of shakes of salt.  Then I dumped in the cup of hot stock and stirred until it was a smooth dough.  After rolling it out to about 1/8 inch thickness, I cut it into roughly equal pieces, put the pieces on a pan, and baked them.  Usually, I try to take them out of the oven when the biscuits are pale brown, but this morning, I got distracted while they were in the oven.

Monty and Bree had knocked down a gate and escaped overnight.  Bree loves to do this.  She was born a mile away from here and she likes to go visit her family sometimes.  She probably wanted to introduce them to her new friend.  Anyway, I was baking dog cookies when I looked out the window to see that Monty had come home for his breakfast.  I ran out to put him in the paddock, and overcooked the biscuits.  (I'll have to go get Bree later, after she's had time for a nice visit.)

These dog cookies are a lot cheaper than the store-bought kind, and my dogs love them.  You don't need a recipe.  Use whatever broth you have (chicken giblets are great) and whatever kind of flour you have.  The salt and baking powder are optional.  Store them in a paper bag.

Monty joins us

Until last Sunday, Monty was living a few miles away from us.  Like our horse, Bree, he was alone.  For the past few years, he hadn't been ridden much, so he was bored and lonely.  His people decided that he would be better off living with us, so he was ridden over and joined our menagerie on a sunny afternoon a week ago.

When Bree saw him coming, she thundered up from the field, mane and tail flying, in a state of great excitement.  Monty was pretty calm, and both horses are friendly, so I didn't think there would be any trouble.  Still it's better to be safe.  I put him in a corral where he and Bree could get acquainted with a fence between them.

Monty's a good-looking bay gelding.  Bree loves the boys and enjoys showing off, so for the first hour or so there was a fair bit of squealing, snorting, and kicking up of the heels.  Then the two of them settled down to graze, but stayed near each other.  When I fed them their hay at dinnertime, I put it up against the fence, and they ate together.

Late the next day, I opened the gate between them.  Bree came running in to see if he had better hay than she did, then they wandered off together as if they were already old friends.  I feel much better about our horse situation now.  It's not fair to keep a herd animal without another of its kind for company.

Yukon's Death



Yukon in the Snow

Yukon, the white horse, died this morning.  She had lived more than 30 years.  Her end was expected, it was fairly easy on her, and it happened at an appropriate age.  Still, it's hard.

We took her in two years ago when the rancher she'd been living with couldn't provide the special care she'd be needing in her final years.  He gave her to us, as we were looking for a companion for our horse, Bree.  So, Yukon had an extra two years, and I think they were happy ones for her.  She really didn't need much other than extra food in a separate area, and she was affectionate and frisky, a good friend to Bree.

Living on a farm has really taught me to understand the idea that life and death are two sides of the same coin, and that's comforting.  However, Bree is lonely now, and we're feeling sad.  Death is never easy.  Yukon may not have been human, but she was still a friend of ours, and we'll miss her.