I tell ya. Over the weekend we were in the single digits, negative degrees at night. We had about 8 inches of snow on the ground and my sole occupation was “breaking ice”.
This morning it’s 43 degrees out. So, like, 40 degrees warmer than Sunday morning at 5:00 am.
It’s a chinook. You know how every time it rains, it’s followed by winds? That’s the pattern around here. In the winter we’ll get a cold front with some precipitation, and then right on its heels is a warm wind. That’s a chinook.
My uncle never heard the word before coming to visit us, and quickly adopted it for his nickname for me. I think maybe I talked a lot or something.
I’m glad for the change in weather – the horse troughs are full, I don’t have to break ice, and I can actually sleep through the night without worrying about the critters quite so much.
Not sure why I worry, horses are made for this weather and they love the cold. This was them the other day when it was about 6 degrees out.
