0116

12/31/1999 As I walk down to get the mail, I see Wayne in his garage, putting some bales of hay down in front of his Ranger and Pat's Taurus. What the...? My curiosity compels me to walk over and check it out.

"Hey, Wayne, what's with the bales of hay?"

"Oh, hi, Jerry. I'm just getting ready for Y2K. That's tonight, you know."

"Yea, I know. And...?"

"Well, they say that it could affect computer chips anywhere, even the ones they put in cars and trucks nowadays. If that's true, and either my pickup or Pat's car rolls over to a 1900 date tonight, I might get up tomorrow morning and find that one or the other has turned into a horse and buggy right here in my garage. I figure the horse might need a little something to eat, so I'm putting some hay down now, just in case."

Wayne smiles. OK, I get it. The jokes on me. But two can play at this game.

Wayne continues, "Maybe you want some hay for your pickup? I've got plenty here. Happy to share." His smile widens, but he hasn't started laughing yet.

"No, that won't be necessary," I reply, "but I'd better go make sure I have some rice in the house. If not, I might be back to borrow some from Pat."

"Rice??"

He bit. "Remember, Wayne, I drive a Toyota. If it rolls over to 1900, I won't have a horse & buggy; I'll have a little man pulling a rickshaw. He'll want rice, not hay."

Now Wayne laughs out loud.

---

OK, maybe I kinda invented that story; the actual day is quite inauspicious. I try in vain to start working on wiring in the kitchen, but am inexplicably full of confusion and am barely able to install one junction box in the ceiling, and then drive to 5:30 Mass for the Holy Day.

0115

It was nice enough on Friday to wash laundry and dry everything outside before driving to town for errands, and Christmas with Lenore.

Cold but clear and dry this morning, so I bike to 10:30 Mass. Afterward, I get drafted to sing some cantor things next Sunday and at Easter. Larry and I chat for awhile after Mass, and he lends me a library book about masonry wood-burning stoves. So, after biking back home and making myself a nice dinner, I peruse it for some pretty nifty ideas. Something to noodle about possibly doing.

0114

I rise nearly 2 hours before dawn, and don't bother making a fire, but dig right into the southwest bedroom's south wall. A break at dawn for Lauds and breakfast. Then cut the studs, frame for the replacement window, and install it. Things are closed and weathertight by dusk, then start a fire, and pray Advent Vespers.

20 hours with no fire, and with a big hole in the wall, so my water containers are all freezing over by this time. But in a couple hours, everything is warmed up again, and I'm eating a hearty supper, with piping hot water for my bath. A productive day - thank you, Lord.

0113

Despite howling cold at night and daytime highs in the single digits, I've been able to keep the house fairly comfortable with just one wood burning stove, very encouraging. The warmth percolates upstairs, too, and I can go about my business anywhere in the house. The basement is chilly and damp like a root cellar should be, but clearly above freezing, so I bring my root vegetables back down there.

Concerned about my bees, so I go out and put my ear up against their hive box. I can hear them buzzing robustly inside, so I guess they're doing OK as well.

I spend today writing lots of letters and bills, and cut up and cook a few more pumpkins for pie.

0112

Turned cold last night, and windy, with a little snowfall as well.

I want the window I just bought to go in the south wall of the southwest room upstairs, so I go to work removing sheetrock from that wall. Tear into the kitchen wall below as well, in preparation for replacing the old decrepit door there with a window.

In between the morning fire and this evening's fire, I remember last night's stove pipe incident, so I tie the stove pipe back with some wire, so it can't come loose again.

Now, too late, I'm thinking this may not be the best day to expose uninsulated walls, as the wind continues to blow colder and colder. It hits 0° by early evening, and will likely hit 20° below or colder tonight, I'm guessing. Well, this will be the best test so far as to how well I can winter out here in this house.

Just in case the basement drops below freezing tonight, I bring all the potatoes and beets upstairs, and scatter the pumpkins around, too.

0111

It's snowing lightly, so after a light breakfast and a letter/card to Phyllis, I drive the truck to 10:30 Mass. The first non-bikeable Sunday since I've been here!

After Mass, almost half of this small parish joins in decorating the church for Christmas, including the use of some balsam firs from yours truly. A chile and hot dog lunch follows.

Then, calling ahead, I stop on the way home to pick up a used window advertised in the shopper. Home again, put the window in the garage, and get a fire going in the house. Without warning, the stove pipe comes loose from the chimney, but with gloved hands, I shove it back in with no further mishap. By the time I get the house warm and have some supper, it's dark, and I feel tired and a little headachy, so I turn in early.

0110

Guess I spoke too soon - it got very cold again last night, and I woke in the wee hours, forced to feed the fire.

I rise with a good energy level, and forge ahead with the door project, cutting an opening through siding and studs, then framing the door opening, and hanging the door. Today is still very cold, but so sunny and calm, that I'm comfortable working with a big hole in the wall - I even have to remove my cap & jacket for awhile, the sun feels so warm. But the sun's winter path is brief, and it turns quite cold again by the time I get everything closed up and light the fire.

Eating my supper, I notice that ice has formed in the kitchen water bucket. Well, thank God for wood, and a good stove.

I write a Christmas card to Mom tonight.

0109

The relatively mild weather has broken, and it fell to below 0° last night. All of a sudden it's winter. But the house didn't get any colder than usual; it's starting to look like this old house is pretty winter-worthy, even though only half insulated so far.

I quickly shovel the 2 inches of light powder from the driveway, then start on a new house project. The plan is to rearrange the kitchen, putting a better door where the south window is now. So i spend today on prep work - get the sill fabricated and set in place, do preliminary measuring and cutting, and salvage some siding.

I still have insulating to get done, too, but feel the need to construct something - and to take a break from the distasteful tedium of insulating.

0108

I have accumulated some oddball bits of stuff that can neither be composted nor burned, enough to fill a breadwrapper. So I walk it down to the road; give the Waste Management folks another shot at doing their job.

It's turning colder, and I'm a bit unsure of relying upon only wood for heat. So I take to the basement to try to fix the furnace which I screwed up back in September. I can get the pilot light to ignite, but I still can't get the wiring corrected so that the controls will turn the gas burners on. After a few futile efforts with various configurations, I give up and go back to insulating upstairs. Looks like I'll have to rely on wood heat alone.

I go down late afternoon to get the mail, and see the breadwrappered garbage still lying there. So much (again) for Waste Management.

0107

December in the north woods, and I'm surviving so far. Not that I know what I'm doing. In fact, I keep thinking that maybe that's the good news here: If an inexperienced rum-dum like me can do this, probably anyone else can, too. The implosion of the industrial house of cards will be hard at first, but folks will survive, if they put their minds to it.

I've been keeping busy working on the house: running new wiring upstairs while I have the sheetrock removed, then insulating (one stud space at a time) and then replacing the sheetrock, taping and mudding. I'm about half done on this phase with the upstairs rooms.

But today I direct my attention to seeds. Before I can even start, I have to clear off my desk to make room to work, a project in itself. Then I begin - shelling, husking, separating out most of the chaff, and organizing them for next year: tomato, cucumber, cantaloupe, sunflower, etc. Doesn't seem like it should be a big job, but it turns into an all-day affair. I'm not sure what to do with half a grocery bag of chaffy sunflower seeds - are they even worth saving?

Then I crush and bottle the dried chamomile and savory for kitchen use. By this time, it's evening, and the presidential debate is on the radio. Of course, the couple candidates that sound good are the ones least likely to be nominated (sigh).

There's still some tidying up to do, but that will have to wait for another day.