It's Been Cold!

          Mike and I shop online occasionally. We've never had any real problems. Well, except for the wrong color electric blanket that I got for Christmas, but I didn't think that was too much of a big deal so I didn't send it back. But I had problems with two recent online orders.  

          I searched and found an exercise video for Miss Rosie, then sat back and waited for it to come.

          And waited.

          And waited.

          After three weeks I went online to find out where it was. I filed a complaint with eBay and the first thing they had me do was email the seller. The next day I got an email from the seller saying that he'd been incarcerated — or maybe it was a woman, I don't know — and he would get my video in the mail the next day. A few days later I got the video and it was exactly as described. Besides having had to wait overly long for it, Rosie was happy with it.

          I wasn't nearly as happy with the ricer I'd ordered online. It came in good time, in fact I got the ricer and video on the same day. I opened my ricer and showed Mike how it works and then I noticed it was broken. One end of the rivet had never been installed.

          "Send it back," Mike said.

          I got online and couldn't get the return policy link to work. It's like there wasn't anything there. "I think you can fix it for me," I told Mike. On our next trip to town Mike got a screw and lock nut and fixed it for me. Potato dumplings are what's in my future.

          But speaking of our trip to town...

          I took some more pictures for you. I know how you like them.

          There's a rooster on the roof.

          It's been cold! It been really cold! This is steam fog coming up from the Susquehanna River. When you see steam fog, it generally means the temperature of the water is warmer than the air temp.

          The steam from the energy plant is just hanging in the air. It's like it's frozen right there! It wasn't moving at all!

          Crossing the bridge into Towanda.

 

          Bringing in the bird nets from the grape vines.

          That cat!

          That darn cat!

          Yeah, that Smudge!

          I gave him some food scraps on a paper plate. When I look out to see if he was done, this is what I see.

          "What's he doing?" Mike asked.

          "I don't know," I said. "Maybe he peed and he's covering it up.

          "It looks like he's burying the plate," Mike observed.

          "I think it's just in his way."

          Smudge turned around, sniffed the plate, 

then he started scooping dirt over it from the other direction.

          Mike was right! Smudge was burying the plate! I Googled it and found out that cats will do this when they've eaten enough and want to save the rest for later. I left the plate out there for a couple of days but he never showed any more interest in it so I picked it up, shook the dirt off, and threw the plate away.

          For Christmas, we had ham, much the same as I imagine many of you did. And what do you do with the ham bone? You make ham and bean soup! Once I'd made a nice big pot of it, I gave Itsy and Ginger the ham bones to chew on.

          I thought, two dogs, two bones, perfect!

          I put both bones on the floor and Itsy claimed hers. I heard a little snipping and snarling but I pretty much expected that. When I looked to see who it was, it was Itsy giving Macchiato what-for because he dared to get within two feet of her bone. But I never saw her snip at Ginger and yet Ginger wouldn't touch her bone. She just sat back and watched Itsy chew all of the good stuff from both bones.

         Well, at least she can chew on the bone when Itsy's done, I thought. But that didn't happen either. When Itsy was done with the bones, wouldn't chew on them anymore, she sat and guarded them —

 and she'd better not catch Ginger even looking at them!

          Itsy sat there all afternoon and on into the evening. 

         About eight o'clock, when she finally walked away from the bones, I tried to get Ginger to chew on one, but she wouldn't. She wouldn't touch them. She wouldn't even get close to them!

          I picked the bones off the floor so I wouldn't trip on them in the middle of the night if I came to the kitchen for water, and offered them to the girls the next day. Itsy didn't have much interest in chewing on them but she did guard them for a while. And Ginger still wouldn't touch them. Eventually I tossed the bones.

          It's been cold! It's been really cold! But we had an afternoon that the wind wasn't blowing so I took Ginger and we went out to take pictures.

          The teasel is wearing a winter hat.

          What is that? I wondered as I was scanning the trees for birds. 

         I couldn't really tell because it was pretty high up in the tree, so I did what my dad used to do. I used the zoom on my camera.

          It's strings from a tarp. I'd seen enough wind-shredded tarps to recognize tarp strings when I see them. The next thing I wondered was how it got there, then I wondered if it was a bird's nest, then I wondered where the tarp strings came from. We have a couple of tarps covering our barn doors until we can get overhead doors put in, but I'm pretty sure they're not shredded. Then I remembered that the neighbor had tarps over the outside dog cages and I think I've seen some of the unused cages had shredded tarps on them. That's probably where it came from.

          I wonder what made these 'tracks' in the snow. Do you think it was moles tunneling under the snow?

          I wondered what made these tracks.  Are there two different animal tracks or is it a front and hind paw print?

          I followed the tracks to my pond. I recognize rabbit tracks. Out onto the pond I went and I see what looks like a scuffle took place but I didn't see any evidence of fur or blood.

          Hey! Guess what?

          I won!

          Our local radio station has a contest they call Text for Treasure. Every day during the week they have you text them a word and usually it's a word relevant to whatever they're talking about that day. Then they randomly pick a winner.

          "That's great," Lamar Kipp said when I told him. "But is it something you want?"

          I won a ten-dollar gift certificate toward lunch at the Fireplace Restaurant and a six-pack of lottery tickets.

          "If I win enough to pay off Kevin's new furnace," I told Mike. "I'm going to!"

          Sorry son.

          But I did win five dollars, which I turned around and bought another lottery ticket with and won another five dollars. I'm going to buy another lottery ticket so Kevin, it could still happen!

          Can you see the envelope my prizes came in? It was canceled upside down.

          "You can use the stamp again," Mike said, but I won't. It wouldn't be honest.

          "Peg! It's just a stamp!" you say.

          Yeah, well, the stamp is payment to the post office to deliver the envelope to me. They did their job; they should receive their payment for it. Besides, Luke 16:10 tells us, whoever is dishonest with very little will also be dishonest with much.

         

          It's been cold! It's been really cold! Despite that, you still need to get the mail. Thursday afternoon I hooked Ginger up and took her down to the mailbox with me. Coming back I was walking into the wind and man-o-man was it ever cold! Once Ginger had the house in sight she started to pull me. "Let's go Mom, let's go!" she seemed to be saying. I bet if I'd have let her off the leash she'd've been home in mere seconds.

          It's been cold! It's been really cold! The snow was blowing and whipping around out there so much so that it's blown up under the awnings on both ends of the house!

          It's been cold! It's been really cold!

          "How cold was it, Peg?" you ask.

          Minus six this morning here at our mountain home in Pennsylvania. I know other places had it even worse. My beautiful sister in Minnesota had minus twelve overnight. "Of course, cold is just cold after a certain point," she told me.

          One thing is for sure though. The cold will help you find all the tiny little spaces you missed when you were insulating the wall your water pipes are in. We took extra care to make sure everything was buttoned up snug as a bug in a rug, yet we've been dealing with frozen water pipes for a week now. It's only freezing right at the kitchen sink so all in all it's not the worst thing in the world. I could go into the bathroom and get water for my coffee until the pipes thawed out.

          After the second time it froze, Mike cut a hole in the drywall and we shoved insulation up behind the pipes. The worked for one night, then the next night it froze again. But we're gaining experience each time it freezes. Mike identified the spot where it was freezing, a brass elbow, and discovered that a few minutes with the hair dryer would thaw it out. Mike made the hole in the drywall bigger, we put a heater nearby and used a piece of drywall to keep the heat right there, in the area where we needed it.

          "Peg, that's not the most attractive set-up," you say.

          I know, right! But we've been dealing. It's only temporary. Before next winter we're going to tear the sink out and re-do our insulating job.

          That cat!

          That darn cat!

          Yeah, Smudge!

          But this time it's a good thing and I'm proud of Smudge.

          One night I saw Smudge hunkered down against the wall, his nose stuck in a small space behind my microwave cabinet, and his tail swishing back and forth. He found a mouse, I thought. All of a sudden Smudge took off for the other side of the cabinet, which was blocked by the trash can, then he ran back around to where he'd  started from. I pulled the trash can out just in time to see the mouse come out. Smudge saw him go and came charging around, the mouse saw Smudge and ran back behind the cabinet again. Smudge stuck his nose in the hole the mouse ran into, hunkered down, his tail twitching, and waited.

          I went around to the other side and pretty soon the mouse came out my side. Smudge saw him go again and shot around the cabinet at a hundred miles an hour! That poor mouse reversed direction and went back behind the cabinet again.

          I grabbed my camera. I thought to get a picture of the mouse as he came out but I couldn't. As soon as he saw me he'd turn around and run back behind the cabinet again, and buddy, was he fast! I didn't have time to raise my camera let alone focus and fire off a picture. 

          I watched this game of cat and mouse for a while. I love animals, and I don't even mind mice, but they can't be in my house. How was I going to help Smudge? I can't move the cabinet; it's caulked to the counter. Besides, it's heavy. As I was contemplating this I see the fly swatter hanging on its hook. I took the fly swatter and rammed it in my side of the hole. I totally expected the mouse to come running out at me, but he didn't. He decided to take his chances against the cat.

          He lost.

          "Good job Smudge!" I praised him and he purred back his thank you. I snapped a picture, picked Smudge and his prize up, and put him out the door.

          It's been cold! It's been really cold! Did I tell you that already? Saturday morning dawned bright and cold. Minus two! But I had water!

          As the morning went on I noticed the stream of water was becoming less and less. Mike came out into the kitchen. "Turn the water on babe," I called from my workstation at my desk. "It's kind of slow, like it might be freezing." I know that if you run it once in a while, that'll keep the water from freezing. Mike did as I asked, put his dishes in the sink, and went back to his recliner. After a while I decide to wash the dishes. I turned on the water to get hot and Mike wandered back out to the kitchen.

          "Look at that," I told him. "It's getting less and less."

          I could almost see the light bulb go off over his head. "Turn the water off. It's frozen somewhere and we're just using the water in the pressure tank. When it's gone you won't have any more water."

          I quickly shut the tap and we went to work trying to track down where the water was frozen. Our water comes into the apartment first, comes under the floors, through a chase in the garage, and into the house. The apartment isn't heated, nor is the garage, but because the water pipes are inside, we never thought they'd freeze.

          Famous last words, right?

          It's frozen.

          "Or the pump went out," Mike said.

          We went to work tearing up the floors in both the apartment and the garage and we have heaters in both places.

          "It's been so cold that it could be frozen before it even gets into the apartment," Mike worried out loud. We have no idea how our water lines come inside, nor how deep they're buried. Such is the woes of buying a foreclosure.

          Running space heaters is a bit scary. A lot of fires have been caused by space heaters. All day long, one or the other of us has gotten up from our roost and made the rounds checking the heaters. Every few hours we'll turn the well pump on to see if we have water yet. But we were without running water all day Saturday.

          Saturday night rolls around and bedtime is coming up.

          Now it was my turn to worry out loud. "Mike, I'm worried about running those heaters all night. Maybe you can sleep with one eye open and go check on them every few hours," I suggested.

          "I'm not worried about the one in the apartment," Mike said. "But let's unplug the one in the garage."

          Sunday morning dawned bright and cold. Minus four! Just after six a.m., Mike leaves our nice warm bed and makes his way to the garage to plug the heater back in. "Put your bathrobe on," I called as he left the bedroom. He didn't. He went off to do his errand in just his boxers and bare feet. Brrrrrr. It makes me cold just thinking about it!

          I went into the master bath and after just a minute or so I heard a crash. Did he fall? I wonder. I've heard Mike fall before and he falls hard! I dismissed it, wondering if maybe he'd knocked something over instead, but knew I'd go check on him as soon as I was done in the bathroom. As it turns out I didn't have to. I heard the door open and close and Mike came padding into the bathroom.

          "Did you hear a noise?" he asked.

          "I did. What happened?

          "I fell."

          "No way! Are you hurt?"

          "I skun my knee up," and he presented me with his knee for inspection. "Is it bleeding?"

          "No. Anything else hurt?"

          "My wrist and my shoulder," he said rubbing each of those spots. "And I hit my head so hard against the door that it knocked it open."

          "How did you fall!"

          "You know that crowbar we used to tear up the floor with?"

          "Yeah."

          "I tripped over it. My head hurts. I think I have a concussion!"

          Drinking water isn't any problem. We keep a couple of cases and a couple of gallons of water on hand.

          "Sooner or later one or the other of us is going to have to poop," Mike said. "What are we going to do then?"

          I thought about it for a minute. "We could take a couple of buckets and get water from the Kipp's or the Robinson's. Or we can melt some snow."

          Mike thought about. "We don't really have a good way to get water from the neighbors; there's no lids on the buckets.... Let's just melt some snow."

          Have you ever had to melt snow?

          No?

          Well let me tell you, there's a learning curve. If I'd've Googled it first, I maybe could've avoided a couple of pitfalls. But how hard can melting snow be? Fill a couple of pans with snow, put them on the stove, and voila! Water! Well, I burned my tall stockpot. Snow, when it's melting, contains so little water that it will melt and quickly evaporate, creating a cave if your heat's too high. My heat was too high. I figured out on my own pretty quickly that I needed to have water in the bottom of the pan to help the snow melt. But if I'd've Googled it first, I wouldn't have a burnt pan to clean up!

          I stood at the stove for quite a while melting enough snow to flush two toilets. While I was at it, I decided to melt enough snow to flush each toilet one more time. Do you have any idea how many trips I made into the yard to fill my bowl? Me neither. But it was a lot.

          I might not have water in the house, I thought to myself as I filled my bowl for the umpteenth time. But God has given me water, fallen from the heavens and blowing into a drift, right outside my door. All I have to do is gather it. God is good and I am thankful.

          "Peg, it's your turn to check the heaters," Mike called from his recliner.

          I didn't even hesitate. I don't want a fire. I got up from my desk and checked the heaters. "Nothing's on fire," I reported when I came back and headed straight for my computer and this letter blog.

          "Turn the well pump on and see if it's working yet," Mike called.

          I did an about-face, went to the electrical box, flipped the breaker on, and heard water rushing in to fill the tank in the half-bath toilet.

          "We've got water!" And I do a happy dance!

          It's been cold! It's been really cold!

          One morning, when I went out to the cat room to feed the cats, I saw their water had frozen. "Mike, can we turn the heater on in the cat room?"

          "Yeah, go ahead," he reluctantly agreed. "But just while it's this cold."

          My wild girls, Callie, Sugar, and Anon, are my buddies now. They are actually more interested in being picked up and petted on in the mornings than they are in eating. All three of them have been hanging out in the cat room on these cold winter days. But when the temps started dipping down into the single digits, the other cats started to spend more and more of their time in there too.

          Now, here's my problem.

          And my problem has a name.

          I call him Mr. Mister.

          And here's the face of my problem. "His head is as big as a dinner plate!" I told Momma when I was telling her about him.

          Okay, okay. That might be a slight exaggeration, but he's a big cat. A big tomcat. He's feral. And he fights with my cats even though all my cats, both male and female, are fixed.

          "Mister!" I scold him. "You can be here if you want to," and I wag my finger at him, "But they live here and you don't! So stop fighting with them, mister! Do you hear me mister..... mister!"

          "Meow," he answers and I pet him on his head, which is as big as a dinner plate!

          And that's how he got his name.

          I've seen Mr. Mister sniffing around my girls and they have scabs from what I assume to be bite marks on their necks, sides, and rumps. "I wonder if he's trying to make them come into heat?" I asked Momma, but she didn't know.

          When Mr. Mister comes into the cat room, and he's done that when I was in there, some of my cats make a hasty exit. If I'm going to put a little heat in there, I want to keep my cats warm, I thought, and not the ferals. And I blocked the flap keeping those who were in, in, and those who were out, out. And that included Mr. Mister and another feral by the name of Jerry who often comes to eat and sleep inside, but unlike Mr. Mister, Jerry won't let me touch him. And even though they couldn't get in the cat room, they could still get into the cat boxes in the garage, so I'm not totally heartless.

         

          Well, my loves, it is my prayer for you to be happy, healthy, and prosperous, as we start this brand new year.

          Let's call this one done!