It's winter in Missouri

I have been trying to take my 40-minute walk in the pasture five days of each week.  This week hasn't been pleasant, but I have made four days.  The last two of those days were around 30 or so degrees, which wouldn't have been so bad except for the wind, which makes things seem a lot colder.  I dress for it, but the Carhartt insulated coveralls I wore when I milked cows in zero weather are long gone.  I do have some men's flannel-lined jeans I wear in winter both in and out of the house.  

When we had cows in freezing weather from the 1960s to the 1980s, I was the one who walked to the pond and broke the ice while Cliff was at work.  Usually I did that once a day, which means the cows were waiting when I arrived at the pond; those bony little Jersey cows would shiver as they sucked up that cold, cold water.  The little pond we used to have here was ruined by some kind of wild creatures who decided to live in the dam and keep a hole there to let out all the water.  It wasn't much of a pond anyhow. 

I do the same these days with my goats and old Mama Kitty, except that the goats' water is in a bucket, and Mama Kitty's is in a pan;  I take hot water out to melt the ice these cold days, and then try to break the ice if it's frozen too thick to melt.  Mama Kitty lets me know she needs a drink as soon as she sees me, and the goats are always waiting at their pail, knowing I'll be there; they too shiver, just as my Jersey cows did.  I also take hay to the goats while I'm outside, if they need it.  I actually enjoy having chores to do, but I am glad I'm not milking the goats!  Oh, I also count my cats' litter box cleanup as one of my chores. 

Today is supposed to be warmer, but they're saying we'll have rain.  We will see if I get my walk in today.  That will depend on the rain.  (I just took Gabe out, and it's raining now.  Blah.)

By the way, I am trying to be more regular in my posting here.  I have lost many of my words when I'm talking, but it seems I have better luck when I'm writing (or keyboarding, perhaps I should say).    

I'm reading an interesting who-done-it that I'm almost done with:  No One Can Know, by Kate Alice Marshall.  It's one I simply picked randomly, but I'll probably be looking for other books she's written at some point.

Gabe has decided he likes his sweater when it's cold outside.  You might even hear the train going past the back of our place.