That is how much snow we have gotten since yesterday.
It is 6 years since I retired from being a teacher in the beautiful city of White Rock, BC. The cherry and plum trees are in bloom there now and the grass has already been mowed at least once. Everything you want to grow, almost, grows there too. It is a beautiful sea side town with a very mild climate, the prettiest place in all of Canada. I think so, anyhow. When I was 19 I drove from one end of Canada to the other and back home and when I came to my home in White Rock, over looking the Semiahmoo Bay of the Pacific Ocean and Mt. Baker of the coastal mountains, I knew there was no place like home.
But things change and the adventure of being a farmer was to begin. The plan was a ten year one, after which time I would retire, not back on the coast most likely, but somewhere where the growing season was reasonable and the snow was less. I hope to find a partner for the sunset years too, one day.
In all those years away from my home in White Rock, away from the germs associated with teaching in an institution, which is exactly what a school is, I did not have so much as one cold. But times got tough out here in the frozen north, indeed for much of Canada, and going back to work was necessity if I wanted to still be able to farm. I am fortunate that I was able to secure a job at my age, and one that pays very well. Back to the institution I went and guess what? I got sick. Mind you, there are a few other things that have strongly influenced that condition. There was a flood at the bed and breakfast and dealing with the aftermath has been stressful to say the least. There were some difficult parents and teens too, and I was up at night worrying about how best to teach them. And while we had a mild winter with little snow, suddenly we have had lots of snow and it has made some chores a little more challenging again.
Today, even though I did go to the doctor and got a prescription for antibiotics for bronchitis, I still had chores to do. I managed to get a bale of hay to the cows and another to the sheep, but wanted to put two netted bales in with the sheep too. The first one was no problem, but the trail was icy and the skid steer slipped down the slope and got stuck. I had to unload the bale and attempt to get myself out of there. After half an hour, I decided to go further into the snow and attempt to get out where the slope was not so steep and icy. It worked, but the bale remains where it was unloaded and will not be able to be retrieved for quite some time. At least two bales are in with the sheep. Tomorrow new straw must be put in all the shelters for the goats and sheep because Saturday is the first possible lambing day. Kidding will follow shortly thereafter. A farmer has no time to be sick.
What amazed me is the doctor. Yes we are in the boonies, but he did not take my temperature or blood pressure. He did look in my ears and mouth and listened with the stethoscope to my lungs, then pronounced that I had bronchitis and wrote a prescription. No chest x ray or anything else, just that diagnosis and prescription and away I went. Oh well. I took two pills after doing the chores and although I still feel feverish, I have high hopes that I will be better soon. I have to be. There are no sick farmers.
But things change and the adventure of being a farmer was to begin. The plan was a ten year one, after which time I would retire, not back on the coast most likely, but somewhere where the growing season was reasonable and the snow was less. I hope to find a partner for the sunset years too, one day.
In all those years away from my home in White Rock, away from the germs associated with teaching in an institution, which is exactly what a school is, I did not have so much as one cold. But times got tough out here in the frozen north, indeed for much of Canada, and going back to work was necessity if I wanted to still be able to farm. I am fortunate that I was able to secure a job at my age, and one that pays very well. Back to the institution I went and guess what? I got sick. Mind you, there are a few other things that have strongly influenced that condition. There was a flood at the bed and breakfast and dealing with the aftermath has been stressful to say the least. There were some difficult parents and teens too, and I was up at night worrying about how best to teach them. And while we had a mild winter with little snow, suddenly we have had lots of snow and it has made some chores a little more challenging again.
Today, even though I did go to the doctor and got a prescription for antibiotics for bronchitis, I still had chores to do. I managed to get a bale of hay to the cows and another to the sheep, but wanted to put two netted bales in with the sheep too. The first one was no problem, but the trail was icy and the skid steer slipped down the slope and got stuck. I had to unload the bale and attempt to get myself out of there. After half an hour, I decided to go further into the snow and attempt to get out where the slope was not so steep and icy. It worked, but the bale remains where it was unloaded and will not be able to be retrieved for quite some time. At least two bales are in with the sheep. Tomorrow new straw must be put in all the shelters for the goats and sheep because Saturday is the first possible lambing day. Kidding will follow shortly thereafter. A farmer has no time to be sick.
What amazed me is the doctor. Yes we are in the boonies, but he did not take my temperature or blood pressure. He did look in my ears and mouth and listened with the stethoscope to my lungs, then pronounced that I had bronchitis and wrote a prescription. No chest x ray or anything else, just that diagnosis and prescription and away I went. Oh well. I took two pills after doing the chores and although I still feel feverish, I have high hopes that I will be better soon. I have to be. There are no sick farmers.
Still winter here in northeastern Alberta
I had to repair the hay nets AGAIN before using them. They make things easier in some ways, because the sheep do not have to be fed daily, but they tear and the sheep chew holes in them and they constantly need repair, plus they finish in a pile of poop and rot and have to be fished out of that mess like wet spaghetti. Then I have to sort the mess out and clean the net as well as I can. I wonder if it is good for the sheep to have eat through a shitty net.
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