Since the blizzard last week, our snowblower has not worked, except for (thankfully!) creating one very narrow car path down our driveway so Rog can get to work. The snow is pretty densely packed and back-breaking to shovel, so Rog has been focusing his efforts on getting the snowblower to work, to no avail. I have been pretty much stuck on the farm for a week and cabin fever is setting in. I decided to shovel out the truck and risk driving it; the roads are still very bad and this truck does not have the greatest traction. But I had a good incentive--the snowplow had plowed over our mailbox and buried it in unshovelable snow. Our mailman will not deliver mail unless the mailbox is at the precise, convenient height to insert mail from his car, so we have not gotten mail since last Wednesday, thanks to the blizzerd and the plow. I decided to drive to the post office and pick up our mail -there might be something important in it (like chick or seed catalogs!)
I shoveled most of the snow that was on top of the truck into the back of the truck, to add weight for better traction, north woods style (I already have three 75-lb tubes of sand in there). The doors were frozen shut, but I finally got the passenger side unstuck so I could clamber in to warm it up.The windshield washer spray nozzles were also frozen and wouldn’t spray to clean off the thick ice coating the windshield, but I was smug because I had recently purchased some fancy windshield fluid that is supposed to melt ice fast.
So, finally I got the truck shoveled out, the doors unfrozen, truck started and unstuck from its parking spot, and had it warming up while I went inside to call the post office. But the post office informed me I could NOT pick up the mail AND they would not deliver it until the mailbox was fixed. I asked how are we going to fix it when the post is broken off and the snow is packed hard, four feet deep, and the ground is frozen? She said I should call the township and they must repair it if the plow knocked it over. I managed to get them to agree to have the mailman drive into the driveway and honk and I will run out and get the mail from his car. (I am going to give him a dozen fresh eggs as a thank you; maybe he will consider doing it again.) Then I called the township and requested a mailbox repair. I have no idea how they will manage it - could be interesting.
I love the animal characters of their farm. One of their horses had discovered a broken window in the barn where he can pull out hay for a between- meal snack. The sheep and donkey gather around to eat the hay he spills. I was tickled to see a row of birds perched on the horse’s neck.