the ice came and the lights didn’t even flicker…

Well, as luck would have it, I was spared any major disruption from the ice storm.

Yes, we got plenty of ice, but it didn’t build up on the trees and power lines the way they predicted. Other than slick, treacherous roads, most folks around here kept their power, which I am deeply grateful for.

It’s Tuesday morning now, and I haven’t left the farm since Saturday afternoon, although in a few hours I will head out and get the hikes back on track. This morning may be the first one of the season where I actually break out my battery operated warming gloves since it is in the teens (with a ‘feels like’ temp of 6 degrees…). 

I’ve been eating very well, thanks to my little storm-prep menu: homemade chicken soup and bacon, egg, and cheese biscuits. I made everything ahead of time so I could just heat and eat if the power went out, fully prepared to warm it all on the wood stove pioneer-style, when - you know… the lights went off here in Georgia.

The animals rode out the cold like champs.

The horses were well fed and stayed dry.

The ducks were tucked safely into the barn, also well fed and perfectly content.

It was a bit too cold for Reece to stay outside with Ellen for long, but I still let him have a little free outside roaming time while I made the rounds and got all the farm chores done. When I tried to coax him back inside, he hopped up on the hammock like he was protesting, literally sitting on the sheet of ice that blanketed the hammock… yes, this dog has my heart and this stubborn streak is just one of many things I love about him…

Inside, I kept the fire going in the wood stove and spent far more time than usual curled up in bed with Poptart. She was not a fan of the ice at all, and honestly, I can’t blame her.

All in all, it was quiet, cozy, and full of small comforts. Sometimes, being snowed (or iced) in isn’t such a bad thing and as long as the power stays on, I welcome it.

How’d you fare in the Icemaggedon/ Snowpocalypse? 

xo

-s

prepping for icemaggedon…

It’s the day before this polar vortex icemaggedon strikes.

Am I ready? As ready as a girl can get.

I’ve got pecan pie, coffee, popcorn, and a few beers and diet cokes - you know, the true snack necessities.

All the water troughs are filled and water heaters are in place to keep them from freezing (assuming I keep power). 

There’s firewood stacked and stored water set aside for coffee… and drinking. In that order. 

Anything shelf-stable that’s been sitting untouched in my cabinets for months or years has officially become my emergency stash. If it gets that bad, I’ll eat the cabinets clean and restock once the roads are passable again in a few days. Hard to say if that’s optimism, denial, or just ingenuity from being raised resourceful.

I’ve got eggs, cheese, and bacon, and I plan to make a batch of buttermilk biscuits tonight as well as cook the bacon ahead of time for quick, easy, delicious breakfasts. Wrap those babies in foil and heat them in my covered dutch oven on top of the wood stove - voilà. 

I’m honestly looking forward to being a pioneer diva and spoiling myself over the next few days - I’m not typically a breakfast gal unless it’s a special occasion like being stranded for days with no power…

I plan on working today and through tomorrow morning. The freezing rain is supposed to start around midday tomorrow, so the plan is to hunker down here on the farm with my dogs, the wood stove, and every conceivable way to make coffee in my french press. 

I’ve got options:

A power bank for the electric kettle.

A gas burner on the grill out back to boil water.

And if things get really hairy, I can boil some right on the wood stove like I’m living in an episode of Little House on the Prairie.

I’ll be parking all the vehicles in tree-free zones, because that’s really my only fear at this point and the one thing I have no control over. As long as a tree doesn’t fall on me or this little farmhouse, we should be just fine through all of this.

Part of me is a little giddy at the thought of being stuck here for several days, which is very possible. The temperatures aren’t forecast to climb above freezing until next Wednesday. That definitely puts a damper on the work I could be doing, but honestly, this stage of my life seems much more inclined toward accepting that I can’t be in charge of everything. 

I may have a few toddler-level tantrums, but they pass, and with no one here to witness them, I don’t even have to apologize. 

As I blog this morning, still in bed and under the heat of my electric blanket, I realize this may be the thing I’m the biggest baby about if the power goes out …not being able to turn the bed on and let it preheat before I crawl under the covers. I’m a wuss about being cold in bed. 

And maybe that’s the lesson tucked inside all of this: you prepare where you can, you let go where you can’t, and you understand that worrying won’t stop a tree from falling. The storm will do whatever it’s going to do. All I can do is keep the fire going, the animals fed, and myself entertained and if the power goes out, I’ll manage. I will probably find a way to enjoy it. I won’t have instant warmth under the covers, but I have so many creative things I can get into that don’t need power. Sewing by hand, taking photos, or I can organize the loft if I get really desperate for something to do. 

Are you ready? Do you have some activities planned that don’t require power? Are excited or anxious? I’m more excited to be honest. I’ll likely play dress up and make lots of ‘thrifted and gifted’ posts because what better way to span a little time when everything is iced over? 

Here are some photos from years past when I was stranded and without power due to snow or ice. Of course snow is much better than ice, but we shall see what happens. Reminding myself how much fun I can have when things are out of my control is one of my survival skills…

Stay warm out there, lovelies!! 

xo

-s

… before the storm

Ellen is the best little goat.

In the evenings, when the light starts to soften and the day loosens its grip just a little, I let her either play with Reece or roam freely while I do my chores. She listens so well and sticks close to me wherever I go. This evening, she was drawn to the freshly sprouted rye grass along the edge of the dirt road… that tender green buffet was calling her name. So instead of hurrying her away, I walked beside her and let her taste something she clearly wanted.

As she grazed, she stood there in the golden hour, alert, her fluffy little body lit up by the last of the sun. No rush. No fear. Just a quiet moment. She’d probably been eyeing that grass for a while, and now she was finally getting to indulge. Watching her, I felt how that calm posture mirrored what I’ve been doing here and the life I’ve built. Slower now. Intentional. Rooted. A life that doesn’t need to prove itself to anyone.

Not everything has been without its rattles, though. Between yesterday and today, my well stopped working, and the panic came quick and sharp. Anyone who lives like this (on land, well providing your water, etc.) knows that kind of worry hits fast. My mom came out yesterday to offer her help, but instead I chose to show her how I could throw a tantrum inside the tiny well house, which shockingly (!!!) did not fix anything. This morning I finally caved and called the well company, and they had me back up and running in less than thirty minutes.

I’ve been preparing, little by little, for the ice storm that may come - hauling hay, stacking wood, checking troughs, dragging the pastures. I’ve spent long hours outside these past few days, moving purposefully, making sure every critter is settled and safe. I sleep better knowing I’ve done all I can to prepare this place for whatever comes.

There is something gratifying about tending to what you love before trouble arrives.

In walking a goat down a dirt road at sunset so she can have a special treat.

In trusting moments like this.

I don’t know if I’m prepared enough for an ice storm that could cripple a lot of folks, but as long as the house holds, I’ll be warm by the wood stove, there will be music, backup power for wifi (blogging) and enough food for me and the animals, and we’ll wait it out here until it’s safe to leave the farm again.

xo

-s

cold morning notes…

Good morning. It’s cold.

Poptart is snoozing hard, she was wedged up against my feet for warmth until I gently betrayed her for a photo. It’s that kind of cold. Cold enough that the prison is keeping the dogs indoors today, so no training for me. A winter storm is on its way this weekend, which means the next few days will be about catching up and getting ready.

I’ll admit I’ve put a few things off. One week it’s seventy degrees, the next it’s thirty, and the nights have been hovering in the twenties. That kind of weather has a way of justifying procrastination, ya know, no immediate threat, making it feel reasonable to put off. Until now.

I’ll be heading out shortly to see if the guy I bought seasoned firewood from last time has any left. Ice is in the forecast, and if the power goes out, I’ll be burning more wood than usual. Thankfully, my brother gave me an excellent battery generator for Christmas - enough to keep the internet, TV, and fridge going for a few days. Small comforts, big relief.

Living on a well means a little extra planning, so I’ll be making sure the animals’ troughs are full and that I’ve got plenty of stored water set aside. I’ve also got a gas grill and a propane burner on the back porch, ready for cooking and boiling water for coffee - priorities clearly in order.

Later this evening, I’ll make a store run for some shelf-stable comfort foods, just in case. And before the weather moves in, I’ll drag the horse pasture. It’s been long overdue, and if we get snow instead of ice, it might even make for a prettier scene out here. Practical chores, but with an eye toward beauty. Yeah, that feels about right.

For now, it’s coffee, a quiet house, and one very warm Poptart who has reclaimed her blanket.

xo

-s