First week on the farm

We've just completed our first week here, and everything's good for the most part.  Everything's wonderful, really, except for two things: it's freezing here and Bob has not been sleeping well.  The every-hour-wakings of our little pup have made me a little grumpy perhaps, and I may be taking my tiredness out on one person in particular named Ben and if that's so, I'm sorry, love.  The main problem seems to be another molar coming in, but I'm sure the move didn't exactly help.  I expect all will be back to "normal" soon.  The chill?  Well, maybe I should get a sweet new coat to help me get excited about that, 'cause it sure ain't going away.  (Honestly, today was quite warm.)

The upsides?  This place is gorgeous, as always.  Bob LOVES Gramps and Grandma Kay and Chubs and Bailey (the dogs) and the big house and barns to explore.  Ben and I have been able to spend lots of QT with Gramps and Kay, and we've enjoyed their hospitality and Kay's delicious cooking.  We get to ride in fun vehicles like tractors and 6-wheelers and bucket trucks.

Oh, yes, maybe I should explain where we are.  My grandfather and his wife live on a 100 acre farm and woods property near Cooperstown in upstate New York.  They are smart people and they've paid their dues, and thus they choose not to stay here for the winter.  This year they became chicken farmers.  (All but one of the roosters were killed last week, and the first two eggs were laid yesterday.)  So, while Gramps and Kay are living it up in Florida, we'll be their surrogate chicken farmers.  I am super excited to eat fresh-from-our-own-chickens eggs this winter.  Unfortunately for Ben, he won't touch an egg.  Bob and I will have to eat lots.

Most of our stuff is piled up in the hay loft.  When we take Bob up there he reaches for everything.  Today he flipped out over his jumpy-jumper until we put it back together and put him in there.

Climbing up the stairs is Bob's new all-time favorite and all-time most dangerous (this isn't your average staircase) activity.  He also likes to push a laundry basket or stool around the house.  He looks like a little old man using his walker (more-so when he uses the laundry basket -- I'll have to get a picture of that).

The internet here is killing me, so I'm afraid I'll have to skimp on the photos until I get it working a little better.  Check back in a day or two if you want to see them.  G'night.