Embracing the First Snow: Farm Life in Transition
Well folks, it seems Mother Nature has finally decided to flip the switch. We're officially looking at our first significant snowfall of the season, and the air is buzzing with that quiet anticipation that precedes a landscape transformed. I ventured out this morning to tackle the usual chores, that familiar rhythm of farm life, but with an added layer of preparation. There's a distinct feeling in the air, a sense that this could very well be the last glimpse of bare earth until the thaw of spring.
"Good morning, large white farm dogs!" Toby and Abby greeted me with their usual enthusiastic tail wags. These loyal companions, ever present in the farmyard, seem unfazed by the impending change. A quick stop to refresh their water, and then it was off to greet Kudu, our bovine beauty. Her gentle eyes followed me as I promised a tractor-delivered feast in just a little while.
Amilia offered a soft "hello," ever the curious one. Buff, on the other hand, remains a work in progress on the socialization front. But one thing I'm not working on is battling the elements to start the tractor. A wave of gratitude washed over me as I looked at our timber frame barn, a sturdy sentinel against the coming storms. Back in the day, the first order of business during a snowfall was brushing off the tractor. Now, this beautiful structure shelters not only the tractor but other essential equipment and even our vehicles, ensuring a much easier task of clearing the driveway when the time comes.
This fresh blanket of white signals the end of any lingering thoughts of brush hogging for the year. It's time to swap the mower for the snowblower. The boys have ample hay, yet their longing gazes follow the tractor, a silent plea for attention. "Hey Macho Man, good to see you, buddy!"
Then there's Buffy, our youngest calf, a creature of habit and a master of escape. "Buffy the Vampire Slayer, what are you doing on the wrong side of that fence?" She has a knack for finding the smallest gaps. A gentle coaxing and she was back where she belonged, away from my burgeoning junk pile – a testament to my slightly overzealous "stick season" where I got a little too comfortable with the mild weather and started dismantling things for reclaimed lumber. Clearly, winter has arrived, regardless of my procrastination.
Buffy's adventurous spirit has already caused some plumbing woes. The other day, she managed to collide with a waterline, knocking it off its rigging. Now, the slope isn't quite right for automatic drainage. "You're being naughty there, Cy calf! Don't go through the rest of the barnyard, please!" Sometimes, the only solution is a temporary fix. Down came a section of fence to guide the errant calf. "Oh, Buffy, don't walk on that, that's thin ice!" A little maneuvering, a gentle lift, and she slid safely underneath. Her persistent crossings of the waterline, however, strongly suggest her culpability in its downfall.
Opening the gate offered a clear path, but not without a moment of bovine hesitation. "Hang on, don't panic... nice and easy... almost there... almost there... good girl!" This little escapade reinforced the need to fix that waterline sooner rather than later, especially with the distinct possibility of frozen hoses. Sure enough, a quick check confirmed my suspicion – the hose was indeed frozen.
A softer greeting came from Baby Bee, the calf contentedly munching hay with the rest of the herd. "Well, hi there, baby bee! You're not eating hay with everybody else. Good to see you, sweetie!" No treats this morning, just a gentle scratch behind the ears. It's heartening to see her integrated with the others.
Even the birds seemed to sense the change. "Morning, birds!" The snow filtering into the greenhouse created a surprisingly dim atmosphere. "Release the quacken!" A flurry of feathers and excited squawks as the flock made their way to the feeding area. "Make way, make way, excuse me, pardon me!" The bird feeding frenzy is always a lively affair, and thankfully, this watering system is functioning perfectly.
The early snowstorms always bring a period of adjustment, a working out of the kinks before everything runs smoothly. By January, the winter routines are usually well-established. Right now, it feels like a mix of successes and minor setbacks.
For those of you considering painting your home the serene white of Gold Shaw Farm in the snow, a word of caution: the color of freshly fallen Gold Shaw Farm snow is distinctly different from the creamy hue of a Gold Shaw Farm Large White Farm Dog. Yes, Abby might just be getting her own paint brand at this rate!
Many of the chickens, particularly those near the door, are experiencing their first real taste of snow. Their reluctance to venture outside is palpable. And the egg production? Let's just say it's taken a nosedive. A solitary duck egg was the morning's meager offering.
A few hours later, the landscape had transformed. We hadn't received a massive amount of snow, perhaps three inches or so, but it was remarkably wet and heavy. Deciding to err on the side of caution, I took the tractor out for a quick plow. With snow this dense, multiple passes are key to prevent excessive buildup that could strain the snowblower. "Hey Toby dog!" Earlier, Toby seemed quite content inside the bird enclosure, so I let him stay.
A modification to the waterline setup was in order. Instead of a permanently connected hose, I opted for a portable orange line, to be used as needed. This should prevent the freezing issues I encountered earlier. Of course, no farm task is complete without a minor injury. In a moment of pure clumsiness, I managed to slice my finger on the open hose cutter I'd left in my pocket. Definitely not my brightest moment.
And then, with the driveway nearly cleared, the inevitable happened: the shearing pin on the snowblower snapped. That heavy, wet snow was the likely culprit. Clearing the jammed snow will have to wait until tomorrow. For now, the priority was ensuring the driveway was passable for Allison's return from the hospital tonight. "Hey dogs! I'm here to feed you."
The early darkness of a snowy evening descended quickly. A frantic search for dog bowls ensued. "There's Abby's dish... uh-oh, Toby dog, can't find your bowl! Can't find your bowl! I don't think I'm going to be able to feed you tonight... Is this it? Yes! There it is!" A little playful teasing for my furry friend. Food was served, Abby enjoying her meal near the house, and Toby contentedly munching his by the hoop coop.
For those unfamiliar with our setup, our dogs live outdoors year-round, but they are far from neglected. This multi-purpose structure has served as a duck house, goose house, goat house, and now, once again, a doghouse. It provides them with shelter from the elements. While I've tried feeding them inside on stormy days, they consistently prefer their usual feeding spots.
Supper called, but a quick check-in tomorrow morning was promised to see the full extent of the snowfall.
Wow. The sunrise this morning was nothing short of breathtaking. That post-snowstorm beauty, the world draped in a pristine white, with the sky putting on a spectacular light show. Sometimes, I truly don't appreciate enough the sheer beauty of this place. "Good morning, Abby dog! How are you doing, sweetheart? Hi sweetie! Hi! Where's Mr. Toby dog?"
A belly rub for Abby, a good girl through and through, and then it was time to get the day's chores underway. "Okay, let's go!"
Toby's whereabouts were soon revealed – he was out socializing with the cattle. "Toby dog, come here! Come here, Toes! Wait, can you not get out, Toy? Did you get yourself stuck in there? Toby, come here! Come on, Toby! Toby, come here! Can you get under the gate?" Abby seemed equally perplexed by his predicament. "Come on, buddy, out you go!" Thankfully, he was dry, so he hadn't spent the entire night trapped. "Hey, don't be a bully!" My best guess is he'd sneaked in recently, finding it easier to enter than to exit. Since moving the cattle to this area, the dogs have developed a habit of visiting, slipping under the gate. But with the compacted snow, getting back out proved challenging. "Yeah, you got stuck. I love you, buddy, but you got stuck."
And then, a flash of movement in the distance. "Oh, wow, would you look at that! There's a coyote that's sneaking by here." After a significant storm like yesterday's, it's not entirely surprising to see a coyote venturing out in broad daylight. Ordinarily, they'd be much more elusive. My guess is it got caught out during the storm and was now making its way back to its den, which I know is about three-quarters of a mile away. I've even spotted this particular coyote on our trail cameras.
I know some might suggest taking action, but I prefer a "live and let live" philosophy on our farm. Unless the coyote poses a direct threat, I see no reason why we can't coexist peacefully. Farms are ecosystems, a delicate balance of livestock, crops, and the natural world around us.
A reassuring call to Baby Bee, nestled safely with the rest of the fold. "Hey, baby bee! Don't worry, you're safe. You got me, you got Abby, you got Toby, and you got your whole fold with you now too! I know! Are you glad to be back with everybody? You seem like you are." It's a good feeling having the entire group together.
A quick introduction: Belinda Carlile, meet Baby Bee. A side-by-side comparison revealed Belinda's significant size advantage, though Baby Bee is certainly growing. "Oh, hi sweetie!"
Time to tackle the frozen hose situation. The orange hose was intended to replace the problematic black one. Fingers crossed for a successful connection. "All right, now I should have the water running and flowing, and by the time I get down to that orange hose, it should be filling up the water trough. Fingers crossed, my friends!"
Success! A gentle drip at the connection was acceptable. And there was Belinda, enjoying a drink of fresh water. "Good job! All right, it's working! Yay!" I was immensely grateful for yesterday's efforts in the storm. The thought of dealing with frozen lines and blowtorches this morning was less than appealing.
Now, the challenge is finding a daily method to drain and clear the hose to prevent freezing. Ideally, storing it outside would save valuable mudroom space and eliminate the daily chore of lugging it in and out. While a one-time inconvenience is manageable, the cumulative effect of daily inefficiency can breed resentment. A good drainage strategy is definitely needed. Stay tuned!
Turning my attention back to the cattle pen, I noticed a familiar furry face. "What I'm noticing is Toby dog has gotten himself stuck in there again!" His desire to be with the cattle is endearing, but his execution needs work. "I know you want to help your cattle, but I think the coyote's gone. Come on, Toes! Can you figure out a way to sneak out of here? 'Cause I'm worried that you're going to get stuck over the course of the day if you keep coming through. Don't come here! Belinda's guarding the door, and so he's a little nervous. You get out of here! Come on! Can I get you through here? No." The gate was the only solution, with a stern warning about repeat offenses. "All right, I'm going to open the gate up for you, but that means you got to be careful not to go back in here, or you're going to keep getting stuck. All right, come on out, Toby dog! You ready to do the bird chores, huh, buddy? Let's go!"
"Morning, birds! How's everybody doing this morning?" The greenhouse was a welcome pocket of warmth compared to the outside chill. I have to admit, housing the birds in a greenhouse during the cold months has become my absolute favorite way to manage poultry in this climate. It makes a massive difference. "Hey, hey, hey, hey, hey! Don't get a jump on the food just yet! Come on, guys, give me a chance to at least let you outside! Get out of there! Release the quacken!"
The happy, hungry birds eagerly ventured out. Interestingly, the geese seemed to be the only ones truly embracing the cold, while the other birds preferred the greenhouse's cozy confines. One poor little duck looked particularly chilly. She seemed to be requesting fresh water. Usually, I remember to empty their water troughs on cold nights to prevent freezing, but last night, it slipped my mind. Thankfully, the temperature only dipped to around 25°F, so it wasn't cold enough to completely freeze the water. However, the snow and ice had formed a hard crust, making yesterday's plowing efforts all the more appreciated.
"Looks like we got a couple of duck eggs here, and one way under there. Could you get that duck egg for me?" Necessity is the mother of invention. My camera tripod became an impromptu egg retriever. Success! Yes, I'm aware I could have simply bent down, but the ground was rather liberally coated in duck and goose droppings, and fresh bedding was definitely on the agenda. "Hey, you can see Beetlejuice is putting in the work! Good job, Beetlejuice!"
One of the perks of farm life in Vermont during winter is the abundance of wood ash from the wood stove. Sometimes, it serves as dust baths for the chickens, but often, I use it as a deodorizer and neutralizer before adding fresh bedding. While not scientifically proven, I have a theory that this contributes to richer compost from the hoop coop in the future.
A bale of straw was next, quickly cut open. My four-legged and two-legged helpers all contributed to spreading it around. "Yeah, you're making your Abby nest! A, you're adorable, you know that? You know that, weirdo! You are adorable!"
Now, to address the water hose again. A slight tightening of the connection to eliminate excess water was needed. The issue with the cattle-damaged line was trapped water, leading to freezing. The goal now is to drain the hose as much as possible before the next freeze. Perfect drainage isn't essential, perhaps around 95% would suffice. For the hose itself, a careful coiling method, allowing water to drain from the bottom as it's rolled up, seems like the best approach. I'm even considering using a spool to simplify the daily task.
"Morning, boys! How's it going? Got some fun stuff for you!" The goats seemed to have weathered the storm well, cozy in their goat house. Fresh water was their morning request.
A momentary panic ensued – had I dropped my microphone in the water? A quick check, check, check confirmed it was still functioning. Editing would reveal the truth.
All in all, this first storm wasn't too severe. In fact, I wasn't even sure of the exact snowfall amount. Time for a measurement! A viewer had sent me a "ya' meter," inspired by the YouTube meteorologist Ryan Hall. "So let's do our first ya' measurement of the year, huh?"
The garden seemed like a suitable spot for consistent measurements. However, the snow was so dense and icy, the meter wouldn't penetrate. An even better idea: measure against a fixed object. Approximately two and a quarter, maybe two and a half inches. The interesting aspect of this storm was the significant ice content, preceded by rain and warmer temperatures, followed by a hard freeze overnight, with temperatures around 22°F. Definitely not snowball-fighting weather!
"Hey, winter is here, and I hope you guys have a great day, and I'll be back real soon with another video. Thanks for watching, everybody! Ya'll meter! You all meter meter! You guys the... you guys meter! I think the you guys meter would be like the New England way of saying it!"