My absence here yesterday had nothing at all to do with what I posted on Sunday. I wasn’t scheming or even pondering what the blog will look like a month from now. We got a phone call from a dear friend in Ohio who had good news to share, and it simply took a while to catch up.
By the time the call was over and we’d had dinner, I was done for the day.
Deb was on the road an hour earlier than usual yesterday morning. She had to be at the Yellville branch briefly before heading to Mountain Home for the first day of what she’s been told will be seven weeks of training.
We talk on the phone while she drives to work, just like we did in the old days. This past week she’s been playfully counting (out loud) the vehicles she sees during her “commute.” She’d traveled five miles yesterday morning, for example, before the number reached two.
The average for the entire seven-mile trip, based on her unscientific sample, is 13. We love it here.
My sense of weather words is that the temperature has to dip into the teens before I’m justified in calling it “bitter.” I had a hard time not using that term early yesterday morning, even though the thermometer said 24°F — my hands, my face and my old bones were telling me how cold it was.
That’s just me. This is Ozarkansas. And yes, I’m sure it’s colder where you are.
I waited until almost 10am before getting my day underway. By then the mercury had crept to the freezing mark. I pulled the Ranger out of the shed, gathered burnables from where we collect them (several places around the homesite) and lit a fire in the barrel.
Channeling my inner hobo, I held my hands out toward the blaze. Toasty.
I’m sure I’ve mentioned this before, but managing a burn barrel should be done deliberately and without undue haste. Most obvious, I suppose, is being mindful of the wind. I prefer to burn in the early morning hours, before a rising sun stirs up the day’s first breeze.
It’s also wise to keep a respectful distance from the fire once it gets going. It’s not unusual for our homemade burn barrel to produce a ten-foot-tall column of flame, and even the slightest puff of wind can push that out horizontally, like a giant blowtorch — and believe me, it happens fast.
So a burn barrel is a great tool. It can be a lot of fun, too, especially on a cold December morning. But reasonable caution is in order. Always.
Throughout the rest of the day, I eased through a bunch of my other to-dos. Nothing major. Nothing strenuous.
The last time I slept later than Deb did had to be before she broke her foot. It’s been a few months, at least. This morning, however, I was awakened by the clack of the door latch — she already was out with the dogs.
Having to get up for work will do that. I’m grateful.
Colder weather — and this was another morning in the 20s — determined what I’d be doing today. Left unattended, stuff freezes that shouldn’t. Without the proper care, equipment that needs to run won’t.
We’ve staged two pump-type garden sprayers near where we burn, one behind the cabin (for the pop-up pit) and the other at the burn barrel. Water freezing in the hoses and valves would cause damage we don’t need, so today I dumped and purged them, then stowed them ’til spring.
I haven’t yet emptied our water-storage drums, and I’ll need to pump them out before we get into a stretch of sustained sub-freezing temps. I hate to waste (and be without) over a hundred gallons of SHTF water, but there’s really no good way to keep it through the winter.
Small engines ought to be started regularly and run awhile, regardless of the season. (No, fuel stabilizer doesn’t protect them completely. Ask me how I know.) All of ours were due for some exercise.
First up today was the generator. I know it’s best to run it with a load, but this time I didn’t. After 45 minutes at idle, I shut off the fuel supply and let it stall, then topped off the tank.
Next, our two-stroke power tools — leaf blower, chainsaw and brushcutter. I actually worked two of the three, blowing clear the path to the fire pit area and knocking down grass straw around the south end of the driveway.
Everything started right up and ran just fine.
I likely won’t address our woodchipper ’til spring. That’s a project of its own.
This all may seem like little stuff, but it’s necessary.
From there I moved on to charging batteries, the 20V packs that power our DeWalts and other tools. I have to admit that it’s a routine task (or should be) that’s gotten away from me. Most of the batteries, 20 in all, charged up fine, save a 5AH DeWalt that the OEM charger wouldn’t even recognize.
I’d heard that sometimes it’s possible to trick an apparently DOA battery into taking a charge by jumping it briefly from a known good one. After confirming the procedure with one of my go-to sources on the wwWeb, I tried it. And it worked.
Before Deb got Home, I took the GoPro up to The Amphitheater. Stabilizing it on a small tripod, I recorded a time-lapse video of the sunset.
I chuckled when I watched it — there are enough contrails to inflame a whole army of tin-hatters.
For my fellow Patriots, a quick heads-up — the unconstitutional arm of the Permanent State known as BATFE has proposed a new rule that’ll criminalize the act of a private citizen selling a lawfully owned firearm for more than he paid for it.
The rule would even intrude on exchanging a firearm for other goods, or services — barter transactions, that is.
And as we know, there are no “proposed” rules in the bureaucracy. This is a done deal.
Don’t change a thing you’re doing. Use caution, of course, but protect your Liberty by exercising it.
It’s come to my attention that Ubi Libertas Blog has drawn a number of new readers recently. To those folks, welcome — I hope you find something useful here.
I should tell you, right up front, that I’m not here to win you over to my way of thinking and living, nor is this an interactive forum. This is a place for like minds to take encouragement, inspiration and information.
Just so you know.
Take care of yourselves, Patriots. Stay calm. Stay sharp. Stay free.
#WiseUp #LibertyOrDeath #Ungovernable
#LetsGoBrandon #FJB