Missouri « Robin Writes

Look, it’s only January 3 and I’m already running behind—what an accomplishment, huh? And yes, I did take off the week between Christmas and New Year’s, thankyouverymuch!

Now let’s talk prepping:

Winter on the homestead has traditionally been about regrouping, resting, and of course, carrying on the daily chores. And we’re nothing if not traditional (forget the WiFi for a moment and the addition of Alexa to our household)!

For me, living in the ‘burbs, it was always hard to get motivated when the sky is gray and the wind is blowing and, well, it’s COLD. I do tend to sleep a bit more, even out here in the sticks, but there are still things to do.

Animals and livestock need to be fed and cared for—and horses worked with. The cats will let you know this, just in case you forget and their bowls are not filled at a precise time, that time being as soon as your eyes start to open at zero-dark-thirty. And then they’ll want out, and in, and out, and in . . .

I have less desk work now, since I’m closing Rocking Horse Publishing, but yes, of course I still write. And I’m taking up leather working again. Played around with decorating a lighter case just last night. I swear, too, I’m going to conquer this thing called “knitting.” One of these days . . .

But winter is a good time to learn new skills and practice old ones. Even outside, as long as you’re dressed for it. I shot my bow over this past weekend—it had been a while, so I lost a couple arrows. And the weather was good. I can deal with almost anything except lack of sun. That’ll put me to sleep quicker than a football game or a golf match.

And if you use wood for heat, you know that you have to keep the woodbox full. That’s an every-other-day event, but it’s not time-consuming and, if you want to be warm, you’ll do it. Our furnace is in the lean-to, right off the kitchen, and the wood piles are about 15 feet from the back door. And covered. Also important!

Don’t think you have to be busy all the time during this season. You do need to be timely when it comes to chores—don’t put things off if the weather is cooperating. Take advantage of sun and warmer temperatures when you can, and use the time to rest and rejuvenate. Within a couple months, you’ll be prepping your garden and making repairs, sunup to sundown.

Well, Cody and Cav have been here a week now and have adjusted very well. They aren’t really in bad condition, at least, not as bad as I was prepared for. Cody, especially, needs her feet trimmed, but they’re more rugged—as one would expect for a wild horse—than overgrown or injured. Neither are particularly underweight, but are always hungry.

Chestnut, our visitor, was super excited to meet other horses—she’d been sharing a pasture with a few cows for a couple years—and she followed little Cav around like a puppy. Of course, she nipped him when he got a little too familiar with her nose, but other than that, they get along pretty well.

Funniest thing is that now, watching Cav take naps, Chestnut will too! Almost every day, within feet of Cav. Cody doesn’t seem bothered by their friendship; in a wild herd, all the horses watch out for the foals and, of course, let them know if they get out of hand. Gently, of course—foals can get away with a lot!

Cav has a very expressive face. He’s taken hay from me several times now, and yesterday I got to touch his little nose. He didn’t run or even step backwards, but jerked his head a little bit and his eyes got huge! Later in the day, he came SO CLOSE to taking a sugar cube from me, but not quite . . . he did follow me around the pasture while I was cleaning up. Once, when a forkful of manure and straw flew in his line of sight, he skedaddled pretty quick for a few steps. Came right back, though.

He also loves the mineral block—and my poor cedar trees are taking a beating from his scratching!

I put Chestnut in the south section of the pasture for a few hours yesterday. She’s such a pet that she’d be all over me for treats, and she tends to herd the others away so she can get all those treats for herself. When we took her over there a couple days ago for some work, she freaked out and could only think of getting back to her posse—even if she does bully them at feeding time. So for now she’ll go in that other section for a few hours a day until she stops being buddy sour.

Cody is a bit of an enigma. She’s very alert and will watch me until she realizes that whatever I’m doing isn’t a threat, and then she’ll go back to grazing. She’ll come close, almost within arm’s reach, but that’s about it, except for twice now she’s let me hand her some hay.

The first time, a couple of my fingers inadvertently went into her mouth, and we were both surprised—no harm done; other being startled a bit, we’re both okay with it. J

When I brought in our old squeaky wheelbarrow, Cody was very, very interested. She stood and watched me all the way from the house to the gate. I had a handful of hay left in the back of the truck, so I gave her that, but when she realized there wasn’t actually food in the squeaky thing, she wandered off.

But not too far. She had to keep coming back to check!

So I cleaned up the quarter section where we drop hay, although I’m rotating it around the area, and by the gate; Cody kindly left a fresh pile as I was leaving the pasture . . . And I cleaned out the shed. Later today, I’ll go get some proper tools and finish up the rest.

Wilson, our Maine Coon, has now met Cody. He’d been used to wandering around the pasture while we were fencing, and until Chestnut arrived. The first few times he went outside after the whole herd got here, he’d stop and stare for a while, on the deck, where he was “safe.” Yesterday, he went into the pasture while I was out there . . .

Cody was closest to him, and saw him right away. She paused for a hot second, then made her way over to him. I believe he thought he was invisible, but she quickly changed his mind. She put her nose down to him and chuffed a couple times while he flattened himself and made a pitiful mew. She decided he wasn’t going to hurt her, and ambled away.

Wilson, on the other hand, went under the fence like he was shot out of a cannon. He ran about ten yards toward the house, then saw me and came back inside the pasture—but he stayed close to me! Then, of course, he discovered manure . . . A little bit later, while I was cleaning the shed, he’d made himself a nest right in the center of all the straw.

He did meet Cav, too. Cav is fascinated with this fuzzy creature, but Wilson’s not so sure about it yet. He didn’t run, but Cav didn’t put his nose on him either, like Cody did!

I’ll leave you with a few pictures; sorry there aren’t more yet—but I’m still old-school enough to live in the moment and not have to document every second. Besides, I’ve kinda got my hands full here!