Can you tell we weren't expecting it?
After finishing our chores and loading up the truck with bags of recyclables and donations for the thrift store, we headed out about 11:30 yesterday morning to run errands and stock up on feed and supplies.
During the winter we try to keep at least a couple of week's worth of feed for all of the animals (dogs, cats, sheep, chickens, donkeys) on hand because we live a half mile down a really steep driveway and 10 miles from the nearest town (which consists of just a tiny post office and a small general store).
Most of the time we can climb out of our little valley in the snow and ice if we really need to, but it's much better if you don't have to.
It was warmer than it had been the past few days, so before we left I uncovered the kale and Swiss chard (so easy to grow) and lettuce (lettuce!) that are still thriving in my kitchen garden despite nights as low as 9°F because I've been protectively swaddling them up each night (and sometimes during the day).
By the time we made it to the second town (slightly larger, 17 miles away), something that looked suspiciously like tiny snowflakes had started to fall from the sky. We hadn't checked the weather before we left the farm, but everyone we talked to during our 17 stops said the forecast had only called for a 30% chance of a few flurries in the morning.
When we got home less than five hours later, it looked like this.
It kept snowing into the night, and we ended up with about three inches total. The flakes were big and wet and coming down fast at first, the kind of snow that quickly piles up on even the tiniest of branches and turns the entire landscape into a winter wonderland.
It was beautiful and quiet and oh so peaceful—and those shirts dried just fine overnight in the toasty warm house. (I love these clothes drying racks so much I bought three of them).
More snow? Here.
More laundry line photos? Here.
© FarmgirlFare.com, where we get just enough snow that it's pretty much always a welcome event.