Ice, Ice, Baby…

Perhaps if Vanilla Ice had been born and raised in Northern Maine, opposed to Southern Dallas TX, he might have reworked the lyrics in his song, such that the word “ice” was not as prevalent, mostly because New Englanders do not need any reminder of the extreme weather conditions. Of course this song has absolutely nothing to do with weather, or climate change, but for one reason or another this song recently came to mind, probably because THIS is what Vermont looks right now (refer to the picture above, taken from the front steps at my house this morning).

The extreme fluctuation in temperature has been problematic, to say the least. One day it’s negative 20, and the next (like today) it’s in the 40’s and raining. The only reason I am permitted to complain right now is because I am a native New Englander, and these rights have been grandfathered in by previous generations. In fact, in order to move from some other state to Vermont, you actually have to take a written, and verbal test, in which your local constituency determines your level of grumpiness and your ability to complain. If you are too upbeat, and too optimistic, then you get the boot. If you are a cynical and slightly despondent individual, then your likelihood of residing in this state increases exponentially.

This ice kingdom surrounding us right now, came in about three weeks ago, totally uninvited. Here’s a major dilemma when living on a horse farm, or any farm for the matter: How in the hell do I get my horses out of the barn? How do I get from point A to point B without either; 1) personally dying, 2) both horse and owner dying, or 3) breaking a bone? Simple solution you may be thinking. Of course, this girl needs a truck load of sand and salt. Well, you’re partially correct and partially incorrect. There’s not enough salt and sand to cover every dangerous spot on this farm, nor do I have the funds to have this place fully sanded. Sand and salt do not grow on trees. Yes, I can make small pathways to get the horses from the barn to their paddocks, but there are still major issues.

a silver lining to living in Vermont in the winter...

a silver lining to living in Vermont in the winter…

I can cope with freezing temperatures and non-stop snow storms. What I CANNOT deal with is ice. That’s it. I have had enough. If I could have one wish granted, it would be for all the ice in this state to spontaneously disappear, like a magic act. The slipping, the falling, the worrying, and the anxiety simply is not conducive to a healthy living environment. My blood pressure must have increased during this month from all this angst. Not to mention, I literally cannot sleep these days. I have this horrible feeling in my gut that the horses will either escape from their paddocks, or from the barn, attempt to scurry across the ice, and die. This sounds dramatic and horrible, but I actually have these thoughts, and think to myself, how can I make this safer? How can we get through this ice phase?

This ice is reality and these conditions are horrid. People are going off the road, animals are in danger, and dealing with this ice truly tests our character. Are we brave? Are we determined? Are we worthy of living in New England? Are we insane? I long for warm summer days, birds chirping, and green grass. I long for sunshine and riding my horses outside without any major suicidal risk. For now, I am looking into investing in a pair of Yaktrax Walkers, and never veering too far away from our fireplace.


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