On Saturday, March 24, more than half a foot of snow fell on our little corner of Indiana. The roads were slick. Every time I looked out the window, the density of the snowfall changed. But it remained steady.
It was beautiful.
I spent most of the day inside, but ventured outside to feed the livestock in the evening.
The snow was piled high on the truck, even after brushing most of it off.
The older heifers were huddled together in the woods. Dad shoveled snow out of their cattle trough.
The younger heifers waited for feed as he shoveled their trough.
“I’d like to think this weather is helping you adjust back to here,” he said.
“It is,” I replied as I lifted a bucket of corn.
The horses were optimistic and calm.
They may seem matted in hair, but they were high in spirits, ready for their specially formulated horse feed and hay.
The Homestead needed a good shoveling, with a foot of snow smashed against the door.
New calves played in the snow.
And the next day, as I strode through the pasture checking on cows and looking for new calves, the sun streamed golden through the trees and warmed the smooth surface of the snowy landscape.
Now, after only eight days of calving, we have ten calves: five heifers and five bulls.
The Kiwi Hoosier 
The other side of a snow storm…I’d never thought of it as an adventure before, but you nailed it. For me it was always scooping off the driveway and hibernating the rest of the day. I will never be ambitious enough to be a farmer!