Cold As Ice

For all you folks who love the beautiful clarity of ice clinging from the rafters or along the edges of half-frozen streams...these crystalline beauties may not conjure up such nostalgic memories for some people.

And no, I'm not talking about kids like Ralphie, you know, the main character from the Christmas Story movie who tried to place the blame for his broken eye-glasses (it was the Red Ryder) on the evil icicle. Although I did have a neighbor who ripped the skin off her tongue from trying to lick one of those things after snapping it off the doghouse out back - but that's another story.

No. My husband tells me of one cold winter when the old well in the barn couldn't keep up with the demand and the only immediate source of water for the herd was Parson's Creek, a little stream about a 100-feet from the buildings. Of course, it was one of the coldest winters in a long time and chopping through the ice wasn't the easiest task. While we didn't tote the water to the cows using 5 gallon pails (each cow drinks about a bathtub full of water each day) we did finally resort to having a tanker bring in water for the next month until the new well was drilled.

Til this day, my husband cannot comprehend the thrill ice fisherman feel in chopping through the ice and sitting around a hole (on the cold ice) for hours.