At the end of this day, I hope to have much more emanating from my brain to think or talk about than snow.
It will still be here in ALL its massive glory, but it's definitely time to turn to other subjects, even if we ARE still shoveling.
I realized last night, while texting one of my sisters, that I had not left the place for three days.
Today I hope to leave the place, with my camera and maybe even with Bridie.
Bill will go to work for a while and then head out to Trestle Creek for a Trout Unlimited gathering.
We have worked really hard these past several days, for a couple of old codgers, dealing with this last, formidable batch of snow.
We've shoveled and plowed for hours like so many others in the area.
We've cleaned up new dumps of snow sliding off from roofs, only to clean up the next pile sliding off the roof.
This morning we teamed up to shovel out the barnyard gate where big blocks of snow had tumbled from the roof overnight.
For three days, we have a shoveled and opened a pathway, which this morning extends almost to the wood pile in the far shed.
For the third time in 24 hours, today I'll take the tractor and loader and move the most recent slide-off of igloo snow on the west side of the barn which blocks my manure pile area.
It's been a marathon, for sure, and it ain't over by any means, but at least we finally have enough control of the situation to go on to other subjects.
As one who enjoys lots of subjects each day, I'm more than ready to turn the "ugh, winter" page for a while and inject thoughts other than snow, aches, pains and back-breaking work.
The one subject associated with the above that makes me happy this morning is that I've gone through a second morning's barn chores without need for pain deterrents.
That feels good. Even though the body parts aren't exactly 100 percent, they've dramatically improved over the past few days, even with all the shoveling.
That's a good sign, especially for my knees which had me pretty depressed throughout December.
The other part that makes me happy is that we've maintained a generally upbeat attitude.
Like the song I heard on the radio this morning while shoveling stalls suggests, "Country folk can survive."
Heck, we've even chuckled through the turkey nightmare. Yes, they are kinda funny, but I prefer that they tickle my funny bone from a distance.
And, by golly, they have left the premises. Haven't seen them since Saturday's removal of the bird feeders.
Apparently, turkeys don't like suet, cuz I left the suet containers, and the little birds have had a heydey pecking away.
All this said, I'm looking forward to getting back to gasping with awe and taking pictures of beautiful winter scenes anywhere but the Lovestead.
Yesterday, I talked about lowering the bar of expectations. Today, what would normally be status quo on my travels, will be extra special because it will offer a much different scene than a shovel blade chipping away at hard snow.
The scene will be someone else's snow, just like those turkeys going nutso at someone else's feeder.
It's amazing how we can improve our attitude when we can simply do drive-by's where someone else is working their tail off.
We know their pain, and we know there's more to come when we get home from our snow shoveling sabbatical.
It's definitely time for a brief kickback from winter.
One must change the subject from time to time, and today is that day here at the Lovestead.
Good for the brain and the back.
Hoping for some good tales and photos to share tomorrow.
Happy Monday.
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