Thursday, January 13, 2011
It usually happens in January, when the ground has been frozen for weeks, when breaking ice from buckets is part of the morning and evening routine. There comes the day when I realize that 25 degrees no longer feels cold. That happened this afternoon, when the sun was shining, the wind died to 8 m.p.h., and the temperatures climbed to 23 degrees. After walking 100 yards through snow and carrying six flakes of hay to the horses, I noticed it was warm. After carrying three 50-pound bags of grain from the garage to the barn, I removed my hat. The gloves came off after hauling the bale of hay to the sheep. And, finally, the coat came off after moving firewood from the shed to the house. I've become used to winter, which means the tired of winter phase must be approaching.