we're getting a fairly accurate look into the winter ahead. it is bone chilly this thursday on the farm. and pouring rain. its no longer that magical farm rain where every animal and plant welcome the water with faces and arms raised to the heavens. no. its the kind of rain that forces me to hide in the greenhouse with lydia the cat. its the kind of rain that has us running to get more straw to lay down in the animals' huts. its the kind of rain that allows for a hot beef stew lunch in our underwear while our sopping wet clothes are drying. its the kind of rain that calls for a shot of eggnog before getting back outside.