Solstice and an open door

Winter, I greet you. You are welcome here! I've given it some thought, and I've decided that you and I can try this thing again.

I know we've had our ups and downs. There was that muddy mess you made in my paddock last year, and that trail ride you ruined with your icy leavings. There was that time, before I met FarmWife, when you rotted my coat away with your unrelenting rain. Still, I think I understand you now. I think I'm more prepared to embrace you, foibles and all. We can be wary allies, you and I.

You cannot chill me with your cutting wind: I am blanketed, and on top of that I am told that I shall have a new shed for Christmas (or in January, at least). You cannot suck my hoofies into your mud—my gravel will thwart your nefarious plans! You cannot dehydrate me with your icy beverage barriers: FarmWife will break them. She will bring me bathtub water. You will see.

For every one of your sneaky tricks, Winter, FarmWife has an answer. Just watch.

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