Fire and Ice -- Part 2

Then there's the task of keeping the homefires burning brightly amidst this Arctic blast.  Just how brightly varies with the dwindling dimensions of the wood pile.  Each frigid day pares it down more and we add more layers of clothing.  Amazing how one can tolerate 53 degrees in the living room and 49 degrees in the bedroom by donning a couple more wool sweaters and a good wool hat. I have to laugh at the industry-standard of 68 (tropical) degrees, evenly dispersed throughout the house.  Dream on!

We never stop wondering if we put by enough firewood.  Not just any old wood will do.  We need the BTU's of oak and locust, and close by, too, dried over the past summer so the chimney doesn't coat itself with combustible creosote.  And by the way, I'm lucky to have a guy who is still able to pull on that chainsaw starter cord a dozen times without giving up, not to mention sawing with it after it starts, and who also doesn't mind getting up several times a night to feed the fire.

Fire and ice. Not too much fire.  Not too much ice.  Just enough to let you know that you're experiencing winter.  And it's beauty is not to be missed.

Fire and Ice - Part 1

Hi, folks!  It's been tough out here these past few weeks, just off the one-lane road.  My friend from the next holler over commented that since December 18, the temperature has not risen above freezing.  (We may break that cycle today!)  Day before yesterday was the clincher.  The a.m. temperature read ONE degree F. (That's minus 18 C.)!  Unheard of--at least in recent years--for this little corner of the map.

Here on this self-sufficient farm, after a night like that in the single digits, the most glorious sight is a hose with water streaming out the end.  Most times it flows freely.  However, over the past 30 years, there have been a few times when we've opened the outside spigot only to hear a sort of intestinal gurgling from deep within the bowels of the hose indicating no water anytime soon.

That puts an ominous dark shadow over the day, because we know that 20 animals of varying sizes and needs must somehow be moved to the drink, or the drink somehow must be moved to the animals.  Moving our milk cows?  No problem with three Border Collies.  Move a 650-pound sow?  Unthinkable.

Aside from carrying water to the pigs, the destination drink is down at the creek and not surprisingly, also frozen solid which means, you bring along the splitting mall.  Stock tank warmers are the easy answer and oh-so-wonderful as long as the electricity is working.  A hair dryer, too, can sometimes perform miracles and dislodge blockages in an ice-o-lated circumstance...again, providing the electric is on.

But so far so good, this winter--single digits and all.  We've kept the water flowing, and instead, I've had the time to enjoy the artistic side of frozen water down at the creek.

The Launch

OK.  Time's up.  I've stewed over my first post long enough.  So, the idea now is to close my eyes, hold my nose, and jump!

This blog is about two retirees, married 40+ years,  living a self-sufficient life "out here" on a small piece of ground, deep within Appalachia, and Just Off the One-Lane Road.  I'll share our joys and our challenges, with the hope that you will find both information and inspiration.  Even if you're not a retiree, I trust you'll still discover things you can use and enjoy.

Mostly, though, if I bring any message to this blog, it would be to live life fully, whatever your age.  As T. S. Eliot said,

"We shall not cease from exploration,

And the end of all our exploring

Will be to arrive where we started

And know the place for the first time."

Initially, my goal was to start this journal to keep my 65-year-old mind polished up.  Admittedly though, as I remarked to a friend who has helped drag me out of the Pleistocene Age and into the unfamiliar realm of wired voices, it has, at times, felt like I was learning to drive a car by trying the heater knob and seat adjustment.

But frustrations aside, I have managed somehow at least, to burst through the doorway and am teetering on the threshhold of a whole new adventure.  I wonder where the road will lead.  Toes curled over the edge...now uncurling...Here goes...!

Oh, before I leap...one more thing:  my sincere thanks to all of you who have been my mentors, my guides, my friends, my knowledge base--for your gracious and encouraging hand up. It's been so much fun!