A Brief Interruption

Dear readers,
I'm finding it necessary to take a (hopefully) brief break from our posted saga with the donks.  Its been too too too cold here in Michigan to take off my gloves to take any photos. I had all these grand ideas for posts but they'll have to wait until things warm up a bit.  As I write this our thermometer says -1 without the wind chill.  Everyone is just hunkering down to wait it out.  

I'm adding a pic of Luigi from a warmer season to brighten the day.

Invaluable, Indispensable and I Can't Live Without Them

Yup, these are them.  Not very fancy looking, but I love them dearly.  My boot cleats.  Life-savers and then some.

As I mentioned in an earlier post, our driveway was a river of ice before a little more snow came our way. And I was not navigating that river well.  But I opened our drawer of hats, gloves and all things outdoors and voila, out came the cleats.

This picture makes me laugh -- they look like alien beings with antennas.
But I wanted to show you the simple construction.  Just velcro them around the toes and ankles of your boots and you're good to go.

I don't understand how they work so well.  When you look at the bottoms, you don't see little spikes that would pierce the ice to give you traction, but I guess I can remain ignorant of the physics of their design.  All I know is I can literally walk on pure, glaring ice with these cuties.

They get me to my donkeys and that's all that matters.  

Please, Oh Please, We're Starving

Every time, and I mean every time someone drives a vehicle (of any kind) down our driveway, three little donkeys appear insisting its time for a meal.  Any time of the day.  Always...

Gross-Out Alert -- graphic images of manure contained within

The Arctic cold has evolved into the Ice Palace in these parts.
Our driveway illustrates that only too well.

There's not a bit of slush there to get a foothold.  Surprised the dogs didn't go skating down the length.  Speaking of which...











Here's half of Team Donkey waiting to get into the gate to...

...gobble down manure as fast as he can.  I mentioned this behavior in another post, but I'm getting more disgusted by the day.  You see the problem is the manure pile within the donkey yard (which doesn't exist in better weather) is a little of out-of-control.

 
Earlier in the week when we got The Big Dump it was impossible to maneuver a wheelbarrow to take manure to its proper composting location. The result is this "little" pile which started out topping two feet of snow.  Snow melting = a big mess.

But getting back to Team Donkey -- this is heaven for the two idiots. They're quite willing to sift through the dirty shavings to get a taste treat.

See why I'm totally disgusted!  

The Big Dump

For those who aren't in Southeast Michigan, we are in the midst of a mighty big snowfall.
Let's see what the snow has brought so far today.

 We have a very long driveway and our trusty tractor is indispensable in clearing snow. 

Rick cleared the accumulation early in the morning, but the inches are piling up again.

One little face peeks out from the shed.

Can you see the path I cleared this morning to the water bowl?

Fran doesn't like the bag I brought my camera in and would rather brave the snow than be around that scary thing.

Three snowy faces ask for more carrots, please.  (I had to take snow-treats out to the group.)

Those Lovely Lips

There's just nothing like donkey lips graciously accepting a treat with a gentleness not exhibited 

in horses or dogs.

Doesn't matter the time of day, whether they're hungry for a meal of tasty hay or not.  Gentleness is always the word of the day.

Team Donkey

Here's the crew that comprises Team Donkey.  They faithfully and courageously brave all weather conditions to assist in donkey clean-up morning and night, 365 days a year.

Gunner is on the left and Dudley on the right.   

The problem is, although the job is unpaid, they realize perks in the form of (what they consider to be) golden nuggets.

As you can see, Dudley is vigilant in finding any morsel, albeit frozen.

Actually at times I have to use my gentle mom voice and shoo them gently away.  (read that to really mean yelling over and over "get away from that").  They eat the stuff like candy and when they're simply glued to a particularly chock-full area, I get grossed out.

However, I'm sure they'll stay on the Team until old age relieves them of the duty.