A Good Day to Cozy Up to the Woodstove!

  Its cold tonight.  Maybe not by other folks' standards but this is one of the chilliest nights that we have had on the Bayou in years.  I am feeling it in my bones.  We are snug in the Little Bayou House with the woodstoves chugging out the heat but when out and about the hillside, it is rattling cold.  Perhaps I am just getting old because I never remember being chilled as I am now.  I, also, never remember being as tired as I am now.   Since having temperatures in the teens is a rare occasion in the Deep South, we have to prepare for the cold just about like we do for a hurricane.  The tractors need tending, the garden covered, heat lamps put in the greenhouse, the water pump insulated, faucets wrapped and covered and "let drip" and firewood cut...lots of firewood.  More or less, until yesterday, these have been my jobs this winter.  Mark is off at work and Son had torn something in his knee.  With the two of them "out of commission", so to speak, the bulk of the chores fell to me.  Cutting, hauling and stacking firewood just about did me in.  Yep, I am getting old.  I am feeling a bit achy-breaky.  Top it off with that bone-chilling wind and I am just about ready to toss in the towel and crawl under the covers for the duration of this frigid weather!

  

  This morning while out with the old dog, I did brave the elements and made the trek to the pier.  The water calls to me...but when I got to the end of the pier...the water was gone!  All gone!  The same north wind that brought our icy air took our water!  Wintertime is notorious for low tides but this was a tad ridiculous!  Just about as far as I could see...mud.  Nothing but mud.  Instead of the twenty or so feet of mudflats, we had a span of several hundred feet of no water.  Boats were sitting high and dry in this blustery wind!  So, no fishing for me...even if I had wanted to cast a line.  Instead, I headed back to the Little Bayou House, made another mug of coffee and propped the feet up next to the old cast iron woodstove.  The old dog, Mr. PJ seemed to agree that this is exactly where we both should be on these cold morns.  Smart dog.