Translated to English, he means that the weather here is totally summed up by that single phrase - it is either 40 above, 40 below, or 40mph winds. He's not lying, but it might've helped me to know all that shit before I went ahead & agreed to Mr Shoes' obviously insane plan to move us here... but I digress.
On April 15, in the wee hours of the a.m., I was dragged from slumber by the voice of angry winds & the frantic thumping of a bird feeder being repeatedly & violently smashed into a corner post of the house. Ducking outside onto the porch to rescue the feeder & stop the noise, the hem of my nightshirt was grabbed by the wind & flipped inside out & up to cover my face & create panic in one of Mother Nature's
I could've sworn I heard some cracking noises, but with all the whooshing & thumping, who could tell for sure? The next morning (wind still up & continuing all day long, thwarting all plans to ride) Mr Shoes pointed something out in the pasture...
|Mr Shoes & BIL work to clean up Mother Nature's mess & salvage the 40 foot trunk as firewood & limbs as bonfire fodder.|
|Remaining stump still big & sturdy enough to function as a corner post.|