Coming up for (warmer) air.

Top of the mountain -
my drive to work.

We made it pretty much unscathed through the worst of the arctic weather.  I believe that was only because we did not get the high winds (or as much of them) as predicted.  But the house was all snap, crackle, pop all night, the dogs were double-blanketed, Kramer slept with me.  It must have been cold, because he did not move from under his double-down nest. 

It's almost impossible to photograph black cats.
Especially when you are a "challenged" photographer.
Kramer's little pink/black nose is nested
right next to Pepper's black head.

I had kept the master bathroom cabinet open and the faucets on drip-mode because that is the only water line that freezes.  However, the faucet still functioned while the toilet did not.  I rummaged around and found my heating pad, plugged it in, and wrapped it like a cosy around the water line to the tank.  In a half-hour, it was running again.  Bingo!

While I still won't put the thermostat up over 55* (hey - anyone want to come visit during the winter??), I do turn on the electric heater in the living room.  I just can't wait to get my electric bill for this month. 

The dogs don't go further than two feet from the steps of the deck.  Pepper shot out the door last night and made a beeline for the chicken coop, outside of which is a rich deposit of his favorite snack.  Ahem.  Lovey was right behind him.  BUT, while Lovey was able to make it back to the deck without freezing her paws (she goes so fast she levitates), Pepper only limped halfway and stopped.  I was prepared and trotted out to retrieve him.  He went on something pitiful until I put him down inside the door - then he shot off to see if there was a molecule of dog dinner that he missed in any of the three bowls.  Drama queen. 

Scrappy is much more dramatic.  It's all in slow motion with the great, sorrowful brown eyes upon you.  I do feel for them, with their cold paws.  I rub his paws between my hands until they warm up, while he leans against me and sighs.  I hope he lives forever.

The wool blanket curtain seemed to do the trick in the coop, although the brown leghorn shows signs of frostbite.  Not surprisingly, as the combs of the leghorns are not suited for any temps under 60.  But she is a trooper and always commandeers the same nesting box for the night.  It does help keep the warmth around her.  I had layered the boxes with a nice thick mulch of shavings so none of the eggs froze.  While I wouldn't call it balmy inside, it wasn't bad.  They had no interest in coming outside at all.  I moved the curtain over and opened their little door, just in case someone changed their mind.  I'd much rather let some fresh air in, than keep it too warm and damp.  Nothing knocks off chickens faster than respiratory illnesses.

From all signs, the sheep called a truce and were all snugged up in the barn.  Apria takes the main stage (center court) and the sheep cosy up around her.  They were all outside waiting for me this morning, looking no worse for the weather.

I, however, had to wear so many layers it made me worry that I would fall over and lay there until spring.  Kay used to say that I ought to wear blaze orange so that someone would spot me.  Not a bad idea.  Even though I let the car warm up before heading off to work, it took me most of the hour drive to thaw my fingers.  My feet still felt like blocks of ice.  The forecast for the next few days is a slow inching up of the temps to a downright balmy 20*!!!