The farm has been having water troubles lately, and a path to the dugout, a quarter-mile from the yard, was plowed so that it can be reached more easily for repairs. I discovered the path several days ago and was delighted because it gives me an easy route across the field and away from the grid road where there are sometimes passing vehicles.

Yesterday afternoon I went out there and discovered Scott and his Dad working on the water problem. Scott was chopping a hole in the ice and Ivan was disentangling cords. I asked if there was anything I could do but other than holding the end of a cord for less than a minute, there wasn't. I stood in the crisp sunshine for a while and then carried on my merry way.

When I got back to our yard it was still too nice to come in, so I wandered over to the farmyard, had a look at the lonely stallion, followed a second plowed road as far as it went, turned and came back, and ran into Everett in the barnyard. He climbed up to the loft in an attempt to show me a new cat that has turned up.

The one sitting on his shoulder loves him, but he can't figure out why. I can, I tell him.

Casper uses her snout for a snow shovel. Why? No one knows.

And finally I came in, but only because it would soon be time to think about supper.