At 4:30 I started awake, looked at the diminishing light and went to the back to get all the clothes on. Stopping by the shop on the way to the young calves at the west windbreak, I got the tractor started, set the throttle at just less than half and left it to idle, hoping to keep it warm enough so that it would start to power the alternator if the power lines came down overnight. The phone gave an alarm about Willmar Municipal Utilities asking customers to reduce load until 10 pm. It doesn't look so good.
Andy fell in beside me on his way to farrowing.
The calves were ok it looked like, backs all full of snow. The main herd, south of the yard, was taking a run down the lane to get to their drinker. I had no idea if it were open or not and knew very well that I couldn't do anything about it anyway, not if I planned to live to tell the story. I may well have a cattle drinker to thaw in the morning, or the next day. Meanwhile, the herd would have to eat snow.
Unlike this morning, that snow was becoming light gray and a bit gritty. Soil was evidently blowing off somewhere. I began to get angry, at myself as much as anyone else. What must we farmers think, that it doesn't matter that some kid in the future will go without food because of the soil we let escape?
I shut the tractor down and came back to the house, brought the dog into her kennel in the garage. LeeAnn had it all cozy wrapped in sleeping bags and quilts. I fed and left her there. We will hope for the best!