Really, I could’ve used a stocking hat when I got up this morning — and I mean inside the RV. Outdoors before dawn it was 40°F, our first truly cold morning since we moved to The Mountain, and indoors the temp was a bracing 55°F.
It’s not that our fifth-wheel is without means of heating. We tried last night to get the electric unit in the ceiling over the bed to blow warm air, but it refused. (I thought we’d tested that. Hmph.) Awhile ago we confirmed that the LP-fired furnace works, but we’re incurably cheap, and we were hesitant to use it for the first time this season while both of us were asleep.
We decided to tough it out. Brrr.
So when I put my feet on the floor today, I reached into the closet for a fleece vest and a hoodie, pulling the hood over my head. I liberated Smudge from her crate, made a cup of hot black coffee and gulped it down.
Then I had another. And another. Better.
Yesterday was a lost day. Without resorting to whining here, I’ll just say that the chronic nerve pain I battle flared up in my neck and triggered a headache that put me on my back. By afternoon I was able to drive a load of trash to the transfer station (necessary because it’s closed weekends and we’d reached our capacity), but I went back to bed immediately after.
Nothing got done, least of all a post here.
Today’s chilly start felt good to me, actually. I awoke refreshed and, for the most part, pain-free. I decided to run the furnace to take the chill off by the time Deb stirred.
The unit made one helluva racket, as if there might be chunks of a mud dauber’s nest on the fan. Plus it didn’t blow warm air, shutting down after a few minutes.
Well, shit. We’ll have to get a tech out here to work on it. Fussing with the guts of a propane-fueled furnace isn’t in my bag of tricks.
We had tasks to do today and errands to run. The low temps would force our hand a bit, change our plans and stretch our time off The Mountain. But there was one thing I wanted to put behind me before we left.
When we used those blue 55-gallon barrels to haul water from Deb’s cousin’s well, we didn’t bother treating it because we knew we’d go through it fairly quickly. The water in them now, however, added when we got the well working the other day, will sit for a while as our backup supply. That means it’d need to be treated to keep it from getting nasty before we tap it.
The remedy is simple enough — about four teaspoons of bleach in each full barrel. The water we drink and cook with gets filtered anyway, but this adds another measure of safety. It’s the right thing to do.
Post office first, then on to the feed mill for a couple of deer blocks. Then back the other direction to Casey’s General Store for breakfast pizza and our storage unit to retrieve blankets for the bed and winter clothes for us.
(I’d like to make it clear that I have one “wardrobe.” Deb has two — warm months and cold months. What I pulled from storage today was my winter coats, boots, hats, gloves, longjohns and socks. The rest of what I wear lives in the RV year-round.)
Of course, stuff that’s been stored can smell a little stale, so we did three loads at the laundromat on our way Home.
Halfway up the subdivision road later, almost to The Mountain, we encountered a hiker, maybe 60, wearing a fedora, using a walking stick and carrying a small knapsack. We pulled up next to him, he stopped, and we had a friendly conversation.
Turns out he’s training for a 48-mile ruck, challenged by a few Army buddies.
Back at the RV, our cargo unloaded, I napped. It’s a privilege of aging, and I unashamedly take full advantage.
Besides, it was the perfect afternoon for it.
When I rose from my old-man slumber, faced with so much that needs doing, it seemed like the right time to do something that didn’t need to be done.
(Purely a sanity play on my part, by the way.)
The other day I came across a couple of items we’d bought for traveling cross-country in the motorhome — a collapsible wagon, which we used only a few times; and a collapsible fire pit, which never had been out of its bag. Late this afternoon I gathered and bucked several lengths of dry cedar, tossed it into the wagon and towed it around behind the cabin.
There I assembled the little pit, built a simple lay and asked Deb to come out with a couple of beers.
On this cool afternoon, I surprised her with a fire — our very first fire on The Mountain.
We toasted the occasion, kicked back in those secondhand Adirondack chairs and acknowledged our good fortune. It was glorious.
There’s no point in me saying anything more today. Sharing those moments by a fire are an apt way to close this autumn Saturday.
Take care of yourselves, Patriots. Stay calm. Stay sharp. Stay free.
#WiseUp #LibertyOrDeath #Ungovernable
#LetsGoBrandon #FJB