Battling the Blizzard: A Day of Unrelenting Chores and Unexpected Animal Antics on the Vermont Farm
"Whoa, wow! It's bright and it's cold out here, and the wind is still whipping fiercely!" The exclamation, barely audible against the howling gusts, marked the beginning of another demanding day on the Vermont farm. A quick retreat into the relative shelter of the barn offered a brief respite and a moment to address the viewers. Apologies for a missed video opportunity the previous day were offered, followed by the explanation: the past 48 hours had been, in a word, "bananas."
, "totally normal for this time of year" – the speaker painted a stark contrast with the events that followed. Yesterday, however, had unleashed a different beast entirely. "Oh my gosh, it was so intense!" Sixty-mile-per-hour winds coupled with brutally cold temperatures transformed routine farm chores into an arduous ordeal. A rhetorical question posed to Abby, the farm dog, confirmed the bleak outlook: "It's not looking too pleasant out there, is it?" The visual evidence supported this assessment, with reports of "really windy and really snowy" conditions and a water hydrant buried under a staggering four feet of snow.
"Yeah, these are the days that it's hard to have a Vermont farm, isn't that right, Abby Dabby?" The sentiment resonated with anyone who has faced the raw power of nature. The speaker recounted the relentless cycle of clearing snow, feeding and watering animals, and ensuring everyone's well-being amidst the challenging conditions. The combination of high winds and fresh, powdery snow proved to be a formidable adversary, turning essential tasks into a Sisyphean effort.
The main farm gate became a prime example of this frustrating reality. "I actually shoveled and cleared this gate probably five times yesterday," the speaker lamented. Despite being completely clear around 5:30 or 6:00 PM the previous evening, it was once again entirely buried, requiring yet another clearing just to gain access. To quantify the situation, the "handy dandy hul y'all meter" was deployed, revealing a 14-inch snowdrift across an area cleared just 12 to 13 hours prior.
The inconsistency was particularly vexing. While the tractor and snowblower had carved a path, the capricious winds redeposited snow in some areas while leaving others bare, even exposing rocks. "This is one of the less fun parts of farm life," the speaker admitted, emphasizing the urgency of clearing the snow before it froze solid, rendering the gates unusable. This particular gate had already been shoveled "the seventh, eighth time" in the last 48 hours, with snow continuing to accumulate. A measurement of the drifted snow revealed a significant 16-inch height difference compared to the ground level, with an estimated 20 inches in the deepest spot. Despite only around a foot of snowfall, the drifts were the primary source of the ongoing struggle.
A momentary shift in focus addressed the absence of the farm's large white dog. "Actually, that's not true. I do know what happened to them," the speaker chuckled, transitioning to the difficulty the snowdrifts presented for navigating the farm. A six-foot-high fence appeared significantly shorter, barely reaching five feet in some areas, highlighting the depth of the snow. Each step became a potential "minefield."
The mystery of the missing canine was soon solved. Abby dog was discovered contentedly napping in the warm straw. However, Toby dog was nowhere to be seen. Despite being fed indoors the previous night, Toby had been "absolutely insistent" on where he wanted to spend the night. The camera then panned to reveal Toby comfortably ensconced within the birds' enclosure. The speaker explained that Toby had been locked in with the birds, with the door left ajar for him to come and go as he pleased. While Abby possessed no such restraint when it came to fences, Toby exhibited a remarkable respect for boundaries.
Inside the coop, the birds appeared unfazed by the wild weather. The hoop coop remained intact. The dogs were let in, and a water dish was noted to have been left for Toby. A sheepish admission followed: an egg, forgotten on a nesting box amidst the previous night's chaos, was now frozen solid. The speaker humorously lamented the near dollar loss, given the current high price of eggs.
The reason for Toby's unusual sleeping arrangement remained a minor enigma. Whether it was the climate or a perceived need to protect the birds, the speaker had learned over the years to trust Toby's instincts. While such an arrangement would be unthinkable with the mischievous Abby, Toby's reliable nature allowed for this unique overnight stay.
Returning to Abby, the speaker playfully acknowledged her longing gaze at the frozen egg. The chickens were beginning to lay more frequently, a positive sign despite the lingering winter conditions. Duck eggs were also appearing sporadically, though the geese remained unproductive. Despite the recent harsh weather, the farm felt like it was inching closer to spring.
Toby's behavior in the fresh snow was also noted. He was actively marking his territory, seemingly driven by the need to reassert his presence as the new snowfall obscured his previous markings.
Another snowdrift measurement was taken, this time against a 48-inch fence. The drift nearly matched its height, reaching approximately 46 inches. The watering station presented its own challenges, with the hose buried under snow, making the morning task of pouring water a potentially "interesting" endeavor. Toby, sporting a snowy face, received an affectionate greeting.
The task of setting up the water troughs proved difficult, with the hydrant situated unexpectedly low to the ground. Despite the single-digit temperatures expected for the day, dropping into the negatives overnight, the speaker resignedly acknowledged the need for multiple watering trips to prevent freezing. The thought of donning snowshoes for the chores had crossed the speaker's mind, a decision now regretted. Even draining the hose proved complicated due to the snow's height.
Despite the day's tribulations, the speaker highlighted the "incredible stuff going on" amidst the challenges. The significant snowpack, estimated at an average of over two feet (excluding drifts), was crucial for the farm's ecosystem. The melting snow in the spring would replenish groundwater reserves and nourish the trees, underscoring the importance of traditional snowfall levels. The speaker expressed gratitude for the return to such conditions after several years of minimal snow and unseasonably warm winters. However, a note of concern for the future was voiced, with the worry that such winters might become increasingly rare due to climate change. A plea for respectful discussion, devoid of weather versus climate debates, was made to the viewers.
The challenges extended to mundane tasks like closing doors, hampered by accumulated straw. The inward-swinging door design was appreciated, as it eliminated the need to dig out the entire doorway, requiring only the clearing of the edges. A brief interaction with a snow-covered goat emerging from under the house provided a lighthearted moment. The goats' preference for this unusual shelter remained unexplained.
Hay was tossed to the goats, providing an opportunity to clear their gate – another task repeated multiple times the previous day. "No need to work out this morning," the speaker quipped. Fresh water was then brought to the goats, their previous supply frozen solid. Affectionate greetings were exchanged with the goats, including a warning to Abby against jealousy towards a particularly headbutt-prone goat.
Moving on to the cattle presented a new set of obstacles. Both familiar paths to the cattle were buried under approximately three-foot-high snowdrifts. A decision was made to forge a new path, hoping for shallower snow compared to the "thigh-high" drifts encountered by the dogs. "Days like this are actually a lot of fun too, if you embrace it," the speaker offered optimistically.
Reaching the cattle gate revealed deep snow, prompting the question of whether a shovel would be necessary. The higher placement of the cattle gates, designed to prevent easy slippage, proved advantageous. Fresh water was provided to the cattle, their ice pile resembling a "total glacier." The cattle appeared to be doing well, benefiting from a natural windbreak created by the surrounding trees, barn, and hill. The strategic placement of hay further enhanced this protection.
The speaker reiterated a potential future video topic: the practice of raising hardy beef cattle like their Highland breed in such conditions without shelter, a method employed by some neighbors. Shelter would likely only be necessary during calving season, with a weather-dependent plan for moving calves. Affectionate greetings were exchanged with the individual cows, including a playful remark about Bonnie McMurray's apparent pregnancy and the naming conventions for potential offspring. Bonnie's aversion to the dogs contrasted with Betty Rubble's friendly demeanor, a dynamic rooted in their past interactions when Abby was a puppy.
"Here we are on the frozen tundra," the speaker mused, noting the welcome respite from the wind and the emergence of a partly cloudy sky. The temperature was even climbing towards the "balmy" range of 8 or 9 degrees Fahrenheit. The immense size of Asta, the largest cow, was once again marveled at, along with Alice B. Toews' impressive growth. Audrey, the boss Highland cow, was promised the long-awaited addition of brushes.
Navigating the final gate required the familiar trudge through the snow. The hope was that the path created would compact and ease future chores. Enough water was provided for the cattle, and the hose was left to drain. The focus then shifted to watering the bulls.
Macho Man, caught seemingly "taking a shower" in his fresh water, was affectionately chided. The speaker expressed immense fondness for the bull, recalling his arrival on the farm two years prior. Despite initial anxieties about owning a bull, the experience had been overwhelmingly positive, built on respect, caution, and consistent interaction. The intention to keep Macho Man on the farm for years to come was shared, along with plans for artificial insemination of his daughters to establish two distinct breeding herds while allowing him to remain. The speaker's growing preference for working with the Highland cattle was evident, hinting at a potential shift in the farm's focus. Affectionate words were directed towards Toby dog.
The video concluded with a heartfelt promotion for a newly released documentary about rural schools in Vermont, a cause deeply important to the speaker. Viewers were encouraged to watch and share the film, emphasizing the need to save Vermont's schools. A final "thanks for watching everybody" brought the long and eventful account to a close.