Snow Day

Snow days are near and dear to a teacher's heart.   I know, I know, it's very selfish to hope for bad weather when so many others are put in danger and very inconvenienced by it, but I can't help it.  We joked about it in school yesterday, but didn't dare to hope as we have been disappointed so often.  There was not a single snow day last year.  People joke about how easy teachers have it, but it's not so easy to be locked in with kids all day, where you can't blow your nose without scrutiny, and going to the bathroom requires back up.  It works for me because I like kids, although I'm a bit crankier and less indulgent of their electronics and language these days.  The schedule is great for farming.  Seven more work days and I have a week off to work on the farm.  Two and a half months after that I have two months off.  A heavy wet snow is falling now and the wood stoving is roaring.  I don't know what to do first.  Spin a little bit?  Sew?  Drink more coffee?  Page through the newspapers I purchased but don't have time to read?  I brought home a Martha Stewart Living from the school library yesterday.  Oh, I'm so jealous of her chicken yard and four coops that resemble little houses.  Martha's chicken lay eggs all year long with their sumptuous diet of endless scraps from test kitchens.  She admits to eating her chickens when they no longer lay eggs.  I doubt if Martha herself does the dastardly deed.  I had a nice conversation with Julia Berger last night, and thanked her again for the fantastic job she did on my hay.  We were blessed with three days of hot dry weather and her team got 50 round bales to the barn door, all dry and sweet smelling.  With nary a leak from my roof they stayed dry and lovely all winter.  I'm on her list for this year.  Hoping for two cuts and at least 70 round bales instead of the fifty I got this year.  What a difference it made not to have to hook up the landscape trailer and go pick up hay.  Matt would have to climb up the shaky hay elevator, knocking off ice on the way up, open the door next to the roof, and climb down.  Then we would keep our fingers crossed when we flipped the switch.   This is much better.  He is on the way to Syracuse, driving in wet heavy snow in the little old Saturn.  Will probably take him an hour and a half.  The Feds are coming from  Washington to talk about energy so he had to go in.  I need to get out in the barn and check the flock.  Last night I went to the way back to look at the snow coming down out the east end door, where the piney ridge provides a lovely vista.  No moon and stars last night, just snow.  I could see where a few sheep had ventured out to lick the snow.  Sheep love snow.  No bodies, no babies.  With such a gigantic barn I can't tell what's happening everywhere in it without a search.  I think I might have a goat baby or two coming, but not sure with such heavy coats of mohair on them.  The goats are very quick and hard to catch for me to check for swelling udders.  Little Guy is so sweet and cute.  He is nibbling on hay and bouncing around the pen.  I'm worried about the big fat sheep crushing him when they launch themselves over the sides of the maternity pen to get the goat mom's food.  So far he's gotten out of the way before they land.   Time for more coffee and staring out the window at the snow.   The new Pope is starting his job today.  Rome is so beautiful and I would love to go someday, but I can't imagine  having the freedom to travel with the farm, but it's nice to dream.