Farmer in Winter
Here it is, almost time to begin mowing, and it's snowing again in the Ozarks. Oh, the snowfall is very light, but the ground is basically white with a hardy coating a bright green grass peeping through. The winter birds are back at the feeder, attacking it from every possible angle, and Rosie and I are inside enjoying the warmth of the furnace. I turned the furnace off two weeks ago to save a few bucks, but today it is back on and much appreciated - by me and by little Rosie.
It is supposed to start warming up again tomorrow. I hope that is right because I am so ready to put winter behind me. Rosie enjoys the snow, but even she seems to have had enough of it for this year.
Rosie has one thing in common with snow - they are both relatively quiet. She disappeared one morning last week while we were in Kansas City. I had been in the shower and while there heard her whimper a time or two. I assumed she just wanted in the bathroom to see what I was doing. Later, after I was finished showering and had gone downstairs to rejoin family, Rosie could not be found. I searched outside, calling her name around the neighborhood, while Tim and Olive looked through the house. Tim finally found her upstairs sitting quietly in the linen closet where she had apparently followed me when I had gone to get a towel. No barking, no fuss - just sitting and peacefully waiting to be found.
Yesterday little Rosie disappeared again. I had been outside feeding the poultry, and she had been constantly underfoot, but when I turned to return to the house, she had vanished. I called for her in the backyard - and I called for her in the front yard, but the doggone dog was gone. Finally I stood atop the back porch a yelled a few more times. It was then that I spotted her, trapped in the peacock pen and jumping about briskly trying to get my attention - but still not barking!
The peacocks were not amused!
Rosie can bark, and when we are sitting in the house and she hears someone pull up - or a neighbor suddenly knock at the door, she lets out a stream of yaps that would wake the comatose. But, as a rule, she is silent.
And I sort of appreciate that.
And it is beginning to snow harder.