Journal by Sil

January 16, 2000

It's been terrifically cold the last few days. Yesterday, the warmest it got was -11 C. The soil is like iron and, now, the air has warmed up just enough to snow. Fine flakes are sifting down with a deliberateness that indicates we're going to get a good ground cover, finally. So far, it's been an "open winter." That's hard on the old folks; seems like more colds and flu get spread around when we don't get much snow.

Kate and I went out for a walk last night, before the snowstorm rolled in. The moon was just a bit larger than 1/2, yet so bright that it made strong shadows. The Hunter (Orion) was high in the southern sky and the moon was close to Aldebaran, like a target for his bow. The whole sky was amazingly clear; the stars so brilliant that I stood gawking like a tourist until the cold began to penetrate my three layers of pants and jackets.

It always pays to go out after the neighbors have turned off their yard-lights, and Kate usually tells me that she would like to take a spin around the neighborhood some time between 10 and 11 p.m. Last night, it was -24 C when we were gallavanting about in the moonlight, admiring the stars. Kate was keen on getting into the warmth of the house, even though she told me that there were some of those "strange llamas" (white-tailed deer) up in the orchard that ought to be in the barn on a night like this.

January 17, 2000

9:15 a.m.
Wow!!! Went out to get the van started and shovelled out a little over an hour ago, all bundled up, with gloves and all. After 15 minutes in that wind, my hands were so stiff and cold I couldn't work any more. When I got back inside, I had all I could do to get my gloves off. Hands were cold and numb. After warming them over the teakettle, they stung and prickled to such an extent that I wondered if they were frost-bitten. Guess I stopped in the nick of time, as they are functional now, though pink and a bit strange-feeling. Called Lea and said I wouldn't be in for a while. This seems like a good day to stay put. Kate refused to go out at sunrise for her usual neighborhood patrol. She came out with me when I shovelled, but wanted to huddle in the van, not run around. I shall have to force her out for a walk with me when the sun gets a bit higher, just to keep her bowels "regular."

Right now, Kate is politely begging for my toast-with-peanut-butter, sniffing and rolling her eyes between the toast and me. She will do about anything for peanut butter, even let me cut her toenails.

The weatherguy said we got 7 inches of powder in this area. Yup, that's probably right, but it's blowing and drifting like crazy. It was packed so tight against the van's wheels that it took quite a little effort to dig it out, like digging through the ridge that the snowplow throws up in the mouth of the driveway. This snow ridge is called a "heater bank" locally, pronounced "HEE-tah baynk." This term comes from the days when the roads were rolled for sleighs, rather than plowed. The farmers took turns, bringing out their teams of horses or oxen to pull the town-owned roller along their share of the roads.

10:30 a.m. Weather update; wind 32 mph gusting to 40, temp 9 F [-13 C], which adds up to a windchill of -35 F or -37 C. So the windchill was most likely -40 when I was out there. I've heard that Inuit hunters stay indoors when it's that low. The surprising thing was that the van started, abet with a lot of tries and encouragement from me. That battery is halfway through its third winter.

Just checked the temp in the bedroom, 47 degrees F [8.3 C]. Last night, I closed off the back of the house and slept on the couch. The pepper plants look a little droopy this a.m., but most of the plants in the sunroom seem to be taking it well. The furnace is running a lot, but I've still got about 80 gallons of #2 fuel oil, which is good for a week of this kind of weather. I generally keep the thermostat at 65 F [18 C], except for an hour or so around the time that I take a shower. Makes for an easier adjustment to the outside; at least that's my theory.