The problem is that those of us who are lucky enough to do work that we love are sometimes cursed with too damn much of it.
Terry Gross, JournalistI sure don’t want to jinx us but lemme just say…I’m hoping that the cold has snapped and skedaddled away. I should know by now not to be smug thinking that I’m prepared and can relax. Such has proven true with grape vine and fruit tree pruning, weeding, harvest, mulching and especially cold snap water prep.

I’ve written previously about the Honey-Do List, that roster of once-hidden wishful-thinking items that Laurie had compiled; those labours of love, just waiting for time, money, and retirement to complete. I’ve pecked away at that list for 5 years and still figure I have at least a decade worth left. Necessities keep getting in the way, dagnabbit. Those urgent projects that rear their ugly heads, demanding attention; like the metal roof to replace the 60-year old cedar shingles, before a July fire season spark created one heck of a bonfire or the September rains soaked and spoiled the year’s supply of hay in the loft.

Speaking of rains…when the drought was finally over I plum forgot about what happens with heavy rains. I was busy harvesting, juicing and planting the garlic to recall that old conversation starting with “we need to get some foundation work done”, as we sopped up the two ever-increasing basement leaks when there was the customary torrential downpour. They had been increasing annually for the last 15 years. It was time to get that monkey off my back. It seems that along with some ergonomically incorrect eves troughs there was all the beauty plants, shrubs, trees and their gnarly roots that had been growing, thriving, and increasingly clogging up the perimeter drains. Fixed, just in time, Whew! A wry smile appeared across Jackie’s face. And once again she hasn’t learned that life lesson.

Smug little me thought I was one jump ahead. It’s going to get cold – shut down and blow out the irrigation lines (check); bring the pump inside so lingering water doesn’t crack the casing on this $900 machine (check); cistern pipe heating cables plugged in (check); when it dips below zero open every tap to drip – cabin, farm kitchen, big house, guesthouse (check). Smirk.

All seemed well until Mother Nature caught me feeling all proud of myself. “Well let’s see how she handles -14 degree”, she said.

All the pipes froze solid except for a dripping tap in the big house bathroom and the guesthouse kitchen. But I was prepared with pots of water on standby for humans and dogs. It was the horses and sheep that took my undivided attention for the three days (so far!) of deep deep freeze. Although they got increased food, housing and blankets it was their water that consumed my thoughts and actions day and night. I kept wondering how did they do it in the olden days when they didn’t have kitchens and stoves to boil water?

Now I truly don’t want any cheese with my whine. Those frigid days have been long and hard. But only physically. Emotionally they remain a labour of love. There is nothing more soothing for the soul than watching a horse drinking.

And soothing for the body, when a hot bath is not an option? You know the saying ‘it was a three-dog night’. I think it comes from Australia, or here in the Great White North, when the night is so bitterly cold you need three dogs in bed with you to keep warm. Yup, and three hairy Lassie collies definitely do the trick, with the cat chiming in for good measure.

Jackie Moad believes as Dennis Kimbro said ‘there is no richer woman than the one who has found her labour of love’. With ‘plumbing upgrade’ added to her list for this year she continues to farm that 20-acre organic slice of Paradise in Cedar, ever looking forward, with local solutions for global challenges in mind.

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