It was one of those glorious days, you know the kind? It was the sort of day when the air was clean and fresh, the trees were dressed in gossamer gowns of sparkling white diamonds and pearls, the animals were joyously frolicking in their places, just content with being alive and I was at peace, almost, except for one major problem. I only have enough hay to last until the end of the month. The farmer where I buy hay from has 22 more paid for bales, but, because it was so cold, he and his wife, both elderly, up and went to Mexico until March. But, they forgot to tell me they were going. It was not a planned trip, so I cannot fault them entirely; it is just that without the farmer, I do not have access to my hay. I have ads on the local classified site, on the local buy and sell site and on the Edmonton Kijiji site begging desperately for hay. I am believing some will come up. It has to or the animals will all have to be sent to the auction. I could not bear that, not after painstakingly seeking out the rare breeds and driving hours upon hours to retrieve them, then getting to know them and care for them. No way. Although it was a beautiful day on the farm, it was also a frosty day for me in that other way. Sigh. Praying should help. Please do, if you do. Thank ewe.
Friar, the Babydoll Southdown ram and his ewes.
My little farmhouse viewed from the bed and breakfast house.
Zeb munching away on some fresh hay.
Spotted faced Aiden and Jeanette chomping on some fresh hay too.
A beautifully gowned spruce branch adorning the bale of hay.
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