I still hate winter rain

By BECKY NELSON
If you read last week’s Bramblings, you are well aware of my hatred of winter rain. My feelings have not changed. No, that’s a lie. I now more strongly hate winter rain and the subsequent ice or mud.

Last week’s snow/ice/rainstorm proved to be a nightmare here at the farm. At about 11:30 a.m. on whatever day the rains came (my memory is already repressing the challenge), I received a call from the clerk managing the store for the day. It seems water was running in under the wall into the showroom. We quickly donned our wet weather gear and headed to the store.

Water was, indeed, running into the store. With the ground and ice frozen solid outside the building, the water had nowhere to channel but … into the store. While my husband set himself to the task of digging a drainage trench through the frozen ground and ice, I set myself to the task of sucking up water with a wet-vac. Six hours and multiple sore muscles and some tears of frustration later, most of the water had been removed from the showroom floor and water was running away from the building instead of into it. Very little damage had been done. A few water stains on the paneling, a few water stains on the wooden apple boxes we use for display and a few wet papers and boxes were the only casualties.

We thought we were in the clear. Daily chores and a couple hours of hard labor with snow and ice buildup removal elsewhere on the farm the next day, and I was ready for a break. I hopped into the pickup truck with the sander on the back with my husband and off we went to sand some icy driveways for others affected by the rain. The first driveway was no easy task as we had to back up the very long woods-way sanding as we went in order to have a little bit of traction. The rain and subsequent freeze had made a virtual skating rink of the steep hills leading up to the folks’ house.

The next driveway was an absolute nightmare. A bit of sand showed in the middle of the drive, which is a very steep pitch downward with a snowbank at the bottom with a little brook to the left and a utility pole to the right. Instead of using his better judgement and hand sanding his way down the 300-foot drive, my husband opted to try to hug the sandy portions as we headed down. The ice was to have none of that though, and we began to free-skate our way down the hill the moment we topped the driveway. Brakes were no help, gearing down was futile, and we slid down the hill. I closed my eyes and said a little prayer just before impact, and luckily, the snowbank made for a relatively soft landing and was tall enough to take the impact and hold the truck. No trees, no brook, no utility pole. We were safe and unhurt and the truck was fine … but stuck … in an inaccessible place for a tow truck to venture.

Thank goodness for big-truck services in the area, we were able to contract a big-truck with a couple of lengths of cable enough to reach all the way down the hill and winch us out of our snowy, icy resting place. A bit of sand later, we were able to leave the scene. Ice. The bane of my existence.

The whole week prior to now has been an icy mess. A bit of snow to cover the slick spots and I have had my literal run-in with the ground three times since as I have worked around the farm. Thank goodness no broken bones or bad sprains, but the mere process of falling now that I am “over the hill” as they say, is not a pretty nor desirable activity.

Ice. I hate it. And from what I read of global warming effects on our region, it may become a more frequent occurrence for which we need to plan and adapt. With extreme storms and extremes of temperature the future for us, a lot will have to change. 

We have starting to work in the woods to prepare for maple season, and the extreme temperatures are setting us back. Unable to effectively work with the plastic tubing with temperatures below 20 degrees or so, we have been avoiding woods work for most of this week. The weekend looks more promising, but we now have a ton of work to accomplish before trees are tapped. With predictions of temperatures in the forties and even fifties next week, we will most definitely miss the first sap run as we scramble to get ready for sap flow.

Frustration sets in with our weather-dependent living throwing us curveballs at every turn. I’m not sure what the answers and adaptations will be, but we are certainly trying to adapt. As we try, I am still a firm ice hater.

 

Becky is co-owner of Beaver Pond Farm in Newport. She can be reached at [email protected].