Monday, February 1, 2010

A Winter Wimp

Maybe people can be divided into seasonal stalwarts and winter wimps. I’m definitely a winter wimp. Now that the sun is out, I feel somewhat hopeful. But I’ve already been informed b y Richard that the snowmelt will freeze on the roads with our expected arctic overnight temperatures. I suffered from seasonal effective disorder when we lived in subtropical Louisiana. What did I expect real winter to feel like?

Now, I do have to admit that the sun glistening on the crystal white snow is a sight to behold, and watching the snow showers off pine needles was a magical sight. I don’t even like to be out in cold weather, but I hate knowing we can’t go anywhere in an emergency.

Charlie called as soon as the roads iced to let me know that his all-wheel Mariner could get us anywhere we needed to go, no matter what the weather. And Adam has assured me that if we had an emergency, he could come rescue us. It is grand to live where there are still gallant knights that their gracious ladies will lend to others in distress.

Mountaintop Mary called to remind me that I should fill the bathtub with water, in case the electricity goes out, which is a rather common occurrence when you combine winter storms with pine trees and above ground utility wires. Of course, it follows that if the power goes out, the electric well pump won’t pump water to the house. This means that it won’t be long before the toilets stop flushing. I hadn’t thought of that. I knew we had several gallons of drinking water, but that wouldn’t give us many flushes.

I was in such a state that I immediately filled both tubs, forgetting entirely that one of the safety features of our property is that we have two creeks that run with high volumes of water whenever we have snow or rain. It’s a good thing, too, because the stoppers in our tubs must not have good seals. The tubs were empty when we awakened.

I’m trying to think like a survivalist. I have food stored all over the house, including under our bed. We have canned fuel for our chafing dish for cooking, and a fireplace with lots of wood for heat. Richard brought in the sub-zero sleeping bags from Morrissey Manor. I’m considering having Richard carry in the heavy duty batteries from the non-movable RV and the converter from the van, so that we can continue to work on our computers, and he can watch TV. We may even consider investing in a solar collection panel like Jack’s been using. I know he gets several hours of running a light bulb off a solar charge.

When we moved from Louisiana, we were tired of evacuating for the most common emergency, hurricanes. Little did we know that hunkering down came with its own set of problems, which we now have to learn to address.