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| The orchard. |
January departed with a miserable flourish of cold and wind. We knew it was coming and we prepared for it. On Monday night we put the electric heaters in place to blow on the water pipes at strategic positions. We opened the taps so they’d drip. Yet despite our efforts, the well pump down in the cellar froze. Tuesday morning we awoke to temperatures near -40 and a dry house. No water. I guess I was feeling too smug that I knew how to beat the weather and I needed to be taught a lesson. I went down to the cellar at 7:30 a.m. and set an electric heater by the pump. Just getting down to the cellar was a chore. The outside door to the cellar steps is blocked by a snow drift. I had to pull up boards on the back porch floor and go down with a ladder. By noon there was still no water. Kurt came over at 2:30 and figured out that the small copper pipe that regulates the water pressure was what was frozen. He took it off, cleaned out the ice, reattached it, and the pump came on. It’s so nice having someone close by that understands these sorts of things. We repositioned the heater by the pump and haven’t had a problem since then.
Because of the cold, we had two hour delays for school on Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday. The children enjoyed getting a few extra hours of sleep those days.
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| The Shillig's shed surrounded by drifts. |
Such intense cold makes odd things happen. The big maple trees in our yard groan and pop. One morning when I stepped out onto the front porch to bring in wood for the stove, the soles of my shoes froze to the concrete. For many days I couldn’t see out the back porch windows because they were opaque with frost. When it’s that cold, all the humidity goes out of the air and everything dries out. Our wooden floors shrink which makes them creak when we walk on them (even more than they usually do). The dryness makes things crackle with static electricity. Putting on a sweater, folding laundry, or pulling up a blanket on the bed all make for sparkling miniature electric storms. By Friday the bitter cold had abated and we warmed into the 20's – and the 20's do seem warm after such a long time below zero.
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| The woodland garden. |
On Thursday Hannah left for Tennessee to spend a long weekend with her sisters. She flew out of Elmira, New York, and met up with Sarah at Detroit and they flew on together to Nashville where Rachel lives and where Miriam was already visiting. Hannah was nervous about traveling alone, but she did just fine. It’s great that all my daughters can be together for a little while. From the reports we’re getting, they’re having a great time. Hannah will be home again on Monday night. We really miss her. It’s very strange just having Josiah around. I guess we’d better get used to that. Hannah will be going away to college later this year. I can’t really think about that right now.
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| Old stems in the snow. |
Last week we found out that my father needs heart surgery. He went in for a check up and they found blockage. The doctors were hoping to do a cardiac catheterization and some stents, but when my father went in on Friday for that procedure, they determined he needs bypass surgery. Tomorrow they will perform the surgery. My mother isn’t dealing with this very well. My sister Nancy flew out from California to stay with her. Your prayers on behalf of both of them would be appreciated. I never think of my parents as being old, but my father is 83 and my mother is 85. Brushes with mortality like this make me feel keenly how short and fragile life is.
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| Pepper boxes and snow drifts. |
And now it’s February. The best thing about February is that it’s a few days shorter than the other months. Not that that means anything. The short month of February seems like the longest, most tedious month of the entire year to me. I’m already sick and tired of winter, and the worst winter weather invariably comes in February. Today is Groundhog Day, one of those holidays that give people an excuse to be silly in the midst of a bleak winter. Down in Punxsutawney they are going crazy today. Here in Gold, we are not. For one thing, it’s the Sabbath. For another, we know full well that we have more than six weeks of winter no matter what. More like ten or even twelve weeks. At our house, our observance of Groundhog Day will culminate this evening at the Shillig’s house when we’ll gather for light refreshments and watch an episode or two of Nature. We really know how to live it up.
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| Those banks of snow at the side of the road are five feet tall. |
