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Deep Cold January 2, 2018

Posted by indigobunting in Uncategorized.
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At night, it’s been double digits below zero (F). Now, at 8 a.m., it still is.

My sweet neighbor’s pipes have frozen. Or the well pump has a problem. Or the holding tank. Or something. No water. No water is the worst, and I ache for her. And I hear other neighbors are also dealing with frozen pipes. And I’m shocked that so far, so good here. We’ve had to deal with it before (once from afar, away in Arizona). It’s awful. The longer this cold goes on, the more likely it is to happen.

Since Friday, after a quick round-trip to New York to visit a 95-year-old from Toronto, I have gone outside maybe twice: once to the post office, once to bring in the trash cans and to shovel.

Last night we had invited a friend over for New Year’s pork/sauerkraut/mashed potatoes. His car battery, about to die, had given up the ghost in the cold. He was already in possession of the new battery but was waiting for it to be warm enough to change it out. He tried charging the old one all afternoon, to no avail, so told us he couldn’t come. Tim went to get him, then drove him home after.

There were ice crystals on the mixer that we keep in the mudroom. My toes were numb just moving things in and out of there.

The kitchen is about 52 degrees F. I am staying upstairs in my office, where I will work. I will venture downstairs occasionally to run water through the pipes.

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Comments»

1. Dona - January 2, 2018

That’s cold. I usually envy you and your old Victorian, but not today.

2. Helen - January 4, 2018

Good grief, it almost sounds like a pioneer days reality show. It’s cold here too, but I’m quite cozy in my snug little abode. Sending you warm thoughts (wrap them around your pipes to keep them from freezing).

3. Mali - January 6, 2018

I probably say this every winter, but I can’t imagine living in the temperatures that you endure.

I do know a bit about frozen pipes though, as it happened periodically in our uninsulated farmhouse when we were growing up. On a clear night, my mother would fill containers and buckets with water so we had enough to drink from and wash from the next morning if our pipes froze. Invariably, though, they would have thawed by mid-morning.


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