Single-digit morning
By Christine Tailer
HCP columnist
It was definitely chilly outside. I did not want to put down my warm cup of coffee and step out the door to do the animal chores, but then I thought of my pasture friends waiting patiently. It was time to head out.
I stood by the wood stove soaking up as much heat as I could before I began to pull on my winter chore clothes. I slid my arms into my fleece vest and pulled the zipper up to my chin. My sweatshirt followed. I worked the collar of my vest up so that it was once more under my chin.
The next layer was my quilted coveralls. I stepped in with my right leg first, then my left. I wiggled the straps up over my shoulders and zipped up the bib. For an added layer of potential face warmth, I wrapped a scarf around my neck and tucked it loosely into my overalls in case I decided to pull it up over my face once I was outside.
My lined denim chore jacket followed. I made sure that its hood hung down my back so I could pull it up over my hat if necessary. Then I zipped it up. I was beginning to feel rather warm. Actually, I was feeling decidedly hot. No time to tarry.
I hurried over to the door and bent over to pull on my chore boots, but this was no easy task. I found that I could hardly bend. All the layers around my waist, squeezed tightly into my overalls, made bending somewhat problematic, but I managed to prevail without toppling over. Hat on my head, ear flaps down, and with insulated leather gloves on my hands, I stepped outside. I was actually sweating.
My first breath caught in my nose. I do believe that my nose hairs froze and turned into icicles. My next breath was through my mouth, but it felt as though the enamel on my front teeth was about to crack. I remembered hearing about those taciturn New Englanders who never smiled. Ahh ... Perhaps it was not because they were exceedingly reserved. Perhaps New Englanders held their lips shut tightly so they would not to freeze their teeth. I pulled the scarf up over my face and began to breathe through my nose. Much better. Holding my walking stick in my gloved hand, I carefully made my way down the snow-covered hill to the pasture.
I filled the hay racks and scattered feed in the assorted feed troughs. I broke the ice off the surface of the water trough and shoveled out the thick chunks. Once everybody had finished eating, I pulled off my gloves so I could reach into my pocket and distribute treats to my adoring herd. The animals' hot breath warmed my bare hand. I lingered by their sides and dug my fingers down through their winter coats. I felt the heat rising off their backs.
I was in no rush to return up the hill to the cabin. The animals and I were all quite content. We knew that enjoying single digit outside life was simply a matter of being properly dressed for the weather. Thick coated horses and sheep, long haired Highland cattle, and me with my multiple layers, were all dressed for wintertime success. The little horses snuggled by my side. The sheep pranced on their dainty feet. The Highland boys licked my fingers with their scratchy tongues, and all was well in our single-digit world.
Christine Tailer is an attorney and former city dweller who moved several years ago, with her husband, Greg, to an off-grid farm in south-central Ohio. Visit them on the web at straightcreekvalleyfarm.com.