Tunneling Out

It was a classic Nor'easter, one of those storms where it looks like stagehands are standing on scaffolding above the windows, dumping down buckets of giant snowflakes. We shoveled out yesterday in the late afternoon, but when we woke up this morning, all we saw was pristine snow. Like moles in a hole, we started to tunnel out.

The Luge Track From Door to Driveway

It took a while to get to the barn. The snow is thigh high (I'm short, but that's still over two feet, including what was there before this storm) and heavy, unlike the other storms we've had this frigid winter. Must have warmed up a bit last night. I certainly felt warm after a few minutes of shoveling.

Almost up to the Doorknobs

We managed to dig out the doors on the north side of the barn, despite the compacted snow that had fallen from the roof. The goats were pretty impatient by the time we blazed a trail up to their yard. Buttons forged ahead to the fence so she could yell at us better.

Goats Want Breakfast

They were happy to get some hay and warm water, after I located and dug out their water dish. They seem to have weathered the storm all right. This is why we love our Alpines. They are probably ready to strap on their skis or something. Maybe make some fondue. For now, hay will have to do.

Vervain, Vernon, and Veronica

Looks Like 20-24" to Me

Buttons, Bluebell, and Vervain

The sun came out for a little while, but the western sky still looks a little ominous. This has been a traditional upstate New York winter, for sure. I think we're all feeling a little claustrophobic. I, for one, do not enjoy being a mole in a hole, but (if I survive the next two months) spring will be very sweet indeed this year.