Snowstorm at Weathervane Farm
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Welcome to Bedtime Stories for Everyone, in which nothing much happens. You feel good, and then you fall asleep. I'm Katherine Nicolai. I write and read all the stories you'll hear on Nothing Much Happens. With audio engineering by Bob Wittersheim.
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Learn more in our show notes.
This is a moment we can take care of a touch of housekeeping. So it's a good time to be brushing your teeth, Turning on Do Not Disturb, putting in your sock curls, or finding your teddy bear. If you've ever wished you could actually stay awake and hear a whole story, you know we have a show for that? A daytime version called Stories from the Village of Nothing Much. It's like easy listening, but for fiction. And if you are a premium subscriber, not only do you get this show ad-free, along with bonus and extra long episodes, you get that show ad-free as well. And you support us and keep us going. All for like a dime a day. I think it's a steal, personally. Learn more in our show notes or go to nothingmuchappens.com.
Okay, this works because we are giving your brain a steady point to focus on. You need that minimal but constant engagement to ease you into sleep and keep your mind from wandering.
Our story tonight is... is called Snowstorm at Weathervane Farm.
And it's a story about settling all the animals on the farm into their cozy stalls and pens before the blizzard arrives. It's also about the pond, icing over, friendships that reach beyond species, blueberries and extra blankets, rubber boots, and the excitement of fresh snow.
So lights out, devices down, plump your pillow,
And pull your blanket up over your shoulder.
Feel your whole body drop heavy into the bed. You have done enough for the day. It was enough. Now it's time for rest.
Draw a deep breath in through your nose. And sigh through your mouth. Nice. Again, breathe in. And let it out.
Good. Snowstorm at Weathervane Farm. They had been predicting it for days.
A snowstorm like we hadn't seen in years. And to be honest, I've heard that before. Probably more than once per winter. So at the beginning of the week, when all this snow was much more hypothetical... Yes, we'd made sure the barns were stocked with extra hay, and the plow was on the truck.
But we hadn't made any other plans. We just watched the forecasts and waited. But each day they sounded more sure, and their predictions had grown along with their confidence. Now we weren't looking at just five inches of snow or even eight.
Now they seemed pretty sure that by the time old man winter had finished with us, we'd have two feet of fresh flakes to contend with. Today, when that latest prediction had played over the radio, I'd been standing in the kitchen of the farmhouse, the scent of breakfast, toast and coffee, still rich in the air, and I smiled and rubbed my hands together in excitement.
Looking out from the kitchen window, I could see the calm before the storm, Our paddocks and yards were clear, trampled grasses still visible, and our rescue animals were out playing and feeding.
I like at least one solid snowstorm each year. I don't know, I find them fun. Especially if we didn't have to go anywhere, which we didn't, and we had plenty of supplies.
We did. I loved watching the landscape change, hour over hour.
The goats becoming indignant about it, and then about a half hour later, playing wildly in the snow. I liked tucking everyone into their stalls and pens with straw and treats and blankets and retreating back to the house for cocoa and cookies. So now that it seemed like a sure thing that the snow was coming, and coming soon, we set about making a list of things to get done.
before it got too late. Once we had our marching orders, we layered on our coats and hats and stepped into our rubber boots. My first stop was the pond on the far edge of the property, where the ducks and geese were out for their daily splash.
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