The mud. It is epic. It is never-ending.
Our five-foot tall snowdrifts are finally melting, but there is nowhere for the water to go. The land around here isn't used to a lot of moisture, and it is more like dirt than soil. Prairie grass is not known for holding the ground together when it is drenched.
Needless to say, we are knee deep in slippery, snotty, tenacious mud.
The car cannot make it to the house. The mud goes more than halfway up the tires of the truck, and there is one section of road that has ruts at least three feet deep. It has been iffy, getting from the highway to the house, even in four-wheel-drive.
The drifts are still a good 2-3 feet high. We aren't even close to the other side of this yet.
The winds this year were just so that our backyard is ENTIRELY drifted in, up PAST the top of the doghouse. We've had to dig paths out for the dogs so they can get around and get to the doghouse. Buster now uses the drifts to get on top of the dog house to lay in the sun. That has always been Belle's favorite spot and a surefire way to get away from Buster for a while. Now I find them sitting up there together, watching the hills.
The thing is, not only is the backyard going to be the most hideously muddy pit once this finally melts, it is also going to be full of poo. Currently, there are layers of poo strata in those drifts, results of storm after storm after storm. (And forget about trying to pick up poo frozen to the snow. It just doesn't work very well.) Eventually, this is all going to have to be dealt with, in one stinky, soggy, hideous mess.
OH. MY. GOD.
Usually the wind blows the snow away and we have very little melt to deal with. We can attend to the poo in the backyard regularly, and it isn't an issue.
OH. MY. GOD.
I haven't the foggiest idea how to deal with this. I mean, the actual logistics of such an operation.
Thank goodness we most likely have a few more weeks to figure it out.