Sunday, January 23, 2000

0120

Very cold and windy last night. Instead of lighting a morning fire, I shovel the circle to warm myself, then drive to church. A conversation with Larry after Mass leads me to some introspective thoughts: the ironic contradictions between my zealous idealism and dismal failures.

My earnest desire has long been to accomplish something significant with my life, especially as to eternal realities, or to leave behind a great legacy. This has always seemed a noble aspiration. But then I consider: the ranks of the 'great achievers' include Bill Clinton, Margaret Sanger, Joseph Stalin, Adolf Hitler...

There is no doubt - my current life is a very small and insignificant one. I spend my days shovelling snow, driving nails, cooking pumpkins, and doing what I must do to survive. This may be God making sure my lofty ambitions don't devour my soul. I ask Jesus: Is my ambition and idealism pleasing to You? The answer (I think): Be willing to be small. Be willing to be great, if that's what He wills.

Right now, Jerry is definitely small.

Saturday, January 22, 2000

0119

Snowing steadily when I get up, so I stay indoors and finish soldering the copper pipes for the upstairs bathroom. Fire up the rigged-up pump to supply pressure. To my great satisfaction (and surprise) all joints hold just fine. Guess I'm getting better at sweating copper pipes. Also getting psyched up to build a wood-fired water heating system, and have hot water on tap.

By mid-afternoon, the snowstorm has cleared, so I shovel out the driveway before calling it a day.

Thursday, January 13, 2000

0118

Snow during the night, and still coming down when I awake, but mid-morning it stops and begins to clear up, so I go out to clear the driveway and circle. Am comfortable now with the notion of shovelling my own snow by hand. So much so that, when Wayne offers to start plowing with his rig, I respectfully turn him down. It's kinda fun, actually - clean work, good for the body, good for the mind and soul, too. As with all my repetitive chores, I easily let my thoughts wander as I work...

The house in the winter. The sharp crack! of a cold tree in the east woods makes me look up. So I stop and look about, breathing the fresh winter air. The dead of winter, and I feel very much alive. Have experienced all the seasons now, and the rhythms of nature that each cycle brings. As I get the house insulated and closed up better, it becomes easier to warm with just a wood stove. The gas company can come take their propane tank away any time - I am confident now that I don't need the furnace. I'm doing it - I'm really living this life that I set out to live. I find this exhilarating - that little ol' me could learn how to survive like this in minimalist fashion. And how good it is to be enjoying the fruit of the earth this time of year - carrots, potatoes, corn, beans, applesauce, herbal tea, etc, etc. (Oh, that reminds me - I should cut up more pumpkins when I get time.)

Done shovelling. Before I go in, I get that nice used casement window from Dick out of the garage, and carry it inside to prepare it for installation. Then I warm up the house, eat my hearty supper with relish, and cut up a couple pumpkins.

Saturday, January 1, 2000

0117

What a difference a millennium makes. Yesterday's depression becomes today's mania. I jump right into my work this morning, installing outlet & switch boxes in the kitchen, an outlet in the southwest bedroom, and a little more insulating. Outdoors, I wrap the frazzled wires that I noticed in the rear of the truck, pump water for the house, etc. I even trim my hair & beard before taking my bath late and calling it a day.

Friday, December 31, 1999

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.

Sunday, December 26, 1999

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.

Thursday, December 23, 1999

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.