SNOW?!?!?!

There is panic in the mountains of Pennsylvania today. News reporters on the radio and television are repeating a certain four-letter word beginning with an “S” with every rotation and before every commercial break. They are doing it in spite of who might be listening. They are saying it in October, before Halloween, in the presence of school children, the elderly, and anyone else who can hear….

* * * *

*  * *  SNOW * *  *

* * * *

Even Mr. Farmer was almost swept into the pre-storm panic. How can your mind help but rush back to the things that should have been done earlier in the week? How many times did Young Master Farmer promise that he would get to splitting that woodpile tomorrow? Why oh why didn’t we move one of the pig huts into the adult section of the enclosure sooner? How did the supply of straw for pig bedding get so low?

After setting all the pre-storm tasks on paper, however, he regained his composure and got to work. We put our heads together as he drove me to work and ran through the plan for the day. He could pick up additional straw right away in the morning. Rather than take the hut to the adult pigs, he could take the adult pigs to the hut. After all, the “babies” are fully weaned and large enough to hold their own against giant-boar Tiffany for a couple days. He split a fair amount of wood, and Little Miss Farmer brought it in the house to dry. A quick trip to the store for the items we had intended to purchase on Saturday, which is now Storm Day, and everything is settled for a long, cold weekend.

After the boy finishes spitting the rest of that firewood, of course….

Here we go again...