Bitter Cold (Worse Coming)

 We have 5.3" of snow on the ground and overnight the sky cleared. The temperature plummeted to -5° on our kitchen thermometer. I decided it was time to activate the "Pipe Brigade" (those of you who have read Pinehaven know all about this). I set my clock radio for 2 a.m. but promptly woke at 1:54 a.m. My internal clock is apparently quite good.

 When I came down the steps, Mom was sound asleep. All was quiet outside. The wind had mostly subsided and all was well. I ran water in the bathroom and the kitchen sink and checked the temperature under the bathtub (we keep a digital thermometer there at all times).

 Before going back to bed I looked out upon the frozen world. The distant neighbor's houses were dark. I saw no traffic, not even a snow plow. I went back to bed knowing all was right with our world.

 Just after 8 a.m. this is the view out our front window. Long shadows slice across the snow. At the left our arbor vitae holds snow from yesterday's storm. The just-risen sun gives the snow a comfortable, even warm hue. If you look between the two catalpa trees, you can see that the field is striated by the wind. The next picture is a close-up of that area:

 There has been no one in that field. Those marks were made entirely by the wind. They cut at odd angles and seem almost made by snowmobiles. But, no. That is the work of no more than the wind and the blowing and drifting snow. We have 5.3" on the ground this morning.

 Mom's north-facing bedroom window again shows the work of Jack Frost. Such beautiful ice crystals form there! Feathers could not be more intricate. They chill me to the bone at the same time they warm my heart.
 So, we await a bit of a warm-up over the weekend. Sunday should break freezing but there'll be more precipitation falling. Snow? Rain? A mix? It's too early to say.
 Then, next week that storm will retreat and drag in another Arctic cold front. Some models are showing -20° on Tuesday morning. Dayton's record low is safe (I hope); -28° on February 13, 1938. My mother would have been 13 but says she does not remember it.
 While I hope that does not come to pass, I know it's going to be brutally cold. Pinehaven's Pipe Brigade will again by called to active duty.

First Snow of 2014

 We went to bed expecting snow ... but not this much. Overnight anywhere from a trace to perhaps an inch was expected. By later today, estimates were for two to four inches.
 Mom said she woke about 4 a.m. and turned on the garage light. "There was a little snow on the porch," she said.
 When I got up at 6:40 a.m., there was a full 4" snowfall there.
 I have been noticing the car starting slowly, as though the battery just didn't have much kick on cold mornings. I've had this happen several times in past weeks. It happened again yesterday. Before I crawled out of the bed this morning, I thought of Dad and how he would want me to have this checked out. After I got up, I called Charlie's A-1 Auto Body in Germantown. They gave me an appointment at 9 a.m.
 Of course the snow was deep by then and the roads little traveled. I took the shortcut via Little Twin Road.

 The road appeared to have had a few cars take this route and I drove very slowly in the ruts. The pictures appear out of focus because it was snowing heavily and the windshield was wet and dirty. I shot between swipes of the wiper blades. I didn't pass another car while on this section.

 About half way between Manning Road and Diamond Mill Road, the snow plastered against the tree's south sides. It was quiet and ghostly without a person or animal in sight.

 Now, nearing Diamond Mill Road, I again seemed to be joining civilization. I got to Charlie's about 8:50 a.m. and they took me right away. Yes, my battery tested as failing and I had one low beam headlamp out, too.
 With the snow and with next week's arctic temperatures (-10° is possible, the coldest in years), I wanted to make sure I had a good battery.
 Also, when I got home, I brought in (from the garage) our largest portable kerosene heater and sat it up in the living room. It is full of fuel and ready to light. We have two other (smaller) kerosene heaters already in the house, both also ready to use. If the power should go out, we have heat sources. Plus, I have plenty of wood for the fireplace.

 After I got home (about 10 a.m.) I looked at our south-facing web cam and saved this image. At this point there was a snow accumulation of about 5".

 The security cam on our back porch caught me shoveling another path to the back door.
 The day began at 29°. Now, at 2:30 p.m. the temperature has fallen to 17°. We're supposed to bottom out at 4° tonight. I'll go out one more time - to take out the trash for pick-up in the morning and to get the mail. That's it for me. I'll stay in, then, until the weather improves.

Michigan Rummy

 Our weekly habit is to play a hand of Michigan Rummy every Saturday morning with my brother. We're serious about winning and hold it over the others throughout the week like a grudge. Today - New Year's Eve - I asked Mom if she'd like to play a game.

 So mid-afternoon, out came three bottles of hand lotion (the better to hold the cards with), a sheet of paper and pen for scoring and our old, beat-up deck of cards. Don't feel sorry for us: we have half a dozen decks of cards, a couple brand new, but none feel as good as this worn deck.

 First step: hand lotion on all hands. Rub it in good. Add more ... lots more.

 First hand. Things are not looking good ... for Mom.

 Serious thoughts ensue ...

 And then we're ready for a move ...

Which is to throw down a card but not begin building any runs ...

 I'm getting ready to shuffle the deck for the next move.

 Mom makes a play on my side of the table ...

 This is what we've always called "Michigan Rummy" but I've had others watch us play and tell us that isn't what it is. You deal out eight cards to the one who begins the play, seven to all others. You try to lay down runs of cards (same card as on the left; a run in the same suit as on the right). Wild cards change with every hand, counting up from the ace (A,2,3 ...), and Jokers are always wild). This is hand number six. You then discard a card. When you're out of cards, you win (and the other person totals their remaining cards). The lowest score wins.

 Mom has a good hand and has six of her seven cards down on the table.

 We're getting down to the end and it's Mom's turn to shuffle. This is something she has a hard time doing. Her hands are too dry (even with the lotion) or too cold where she cannot easily feel the cards. I usually do the shuffling for those reasons.

 Here's how the scoring works. When you've finished all 13 hands, the low score wins the game.

 That's how our New Year's Eve afternoon has been progressing. Our actual New Years Eve will find us in bed! Mom will hit the sack about 7:30 p.m. I'll follow no later than 9 p.m. On the rare occasions where a distant neighbor makes some noise at midnight, I might wake up for a few minutes. But if it's like last year, I'll wake up to the new year tomorrow morning.

[This post was intentionally produced in b/w]

Speaking of locks ...

 My favorite lock - including those on Pinehaven's doors - is not one of that group at all. Rather it's an old padlock I have displayed in my bedroom, hanging on my closet door.

It's a lock made by the U.S. Lock Company in the 1860-1880 time frame. It was from my Aunt Belle's estate (d. 1962). More than likely it belonged to my Uncle George.

 I've read little about these locks other than they were named after the planets. This is the "Mars" model.

 It opens with a simple skeleton key and could not have offered much security. It's probably very easily picked. I suppose it did little more than keep honest people out.
 The lock mechanism, considering that it may be nearly 150 years old, works smoothly.

 Here's a reverse view of the lock with the company name.

 Did the locks graduate in size based on the relative size of the planets. Was there a "Jupiter" model and was it the largest?
 The lock shown is 1.5" wide (the key is exactly the same length). The lock is 0.5" thick.

Replacing the Hydrant

 Our outside sources of water consist of one standard faucet (located on the south side of the house where we don't need it) and two "frost free lawn hydrants" at the rear (west). I used to use the one to fill a bucket whenever I wanted to wash the car. The other, closest to the garden, had the most utility.

Years ago, the first lawn hydrant failed. It began dripping even when it was turned off and we called a plumber. Down below the frost line (perhaps four to five feet underground) there's a washer on the end of a long brass rod. If the water is turned off, the rod can be extracted through the top. That's what the plumber tried. It continued to leak slowly. Eventually we got the leak to stop and we quit using it entirely.

But the garden hydrant could hardly be avoided. I water the garden almost daily in the summer. I'd notice that the hose always had a wet spot beneath it. Then, when the weather turned cold, the hydrant began developing a long icicle every night.

This would never do. Since the water wasn't being shut off below the frost line, the pipe, which extends above the ground, is continually filled with water. It'd freeze and burst in winter weather. I wrapped an electrical heat tape around the pipe and that kept it liquid. But it was using electricity (how much I have no idea) and it was a  bit of an eyesore, not to mention a kluge.

So we called the plumber again.

 A plumber worked on it on December 4. He eventually gave up. When he left, the leak was far worse than when he arrived. To be fair, however, I never expected the old fixture was non-repairable. But try the cheapest route first, right?

 A few days later two plumbers arrived with a backhoe to replace the faucet entirely. They dug a hole that was deep enough (five feet, at least) that when the one plumber crawled down in the hole, I could only see the top of his bald head.

 The work was completed just before the weather turned cold. Though the dirt was scraped back into the hole, a phone line which connects to the garage at that corner was left hanging loose and at an odd angle. Plus it was above ground at places in the yard and provided a trip hazard.

 I had to wait for better weather (spring, I thought) to place the phone line back underground and grade the soil properly. Two days ago I began but I found the topsoil was still frozen and was like digging in steel. Yesterday the temperature topped out at 53° and I was able to finish the work.

 My first job was to dig a trench and get the phone line back underground. See the gray phone box and black conduit on the side of the garage? That had to be set straight. Then I graded the soil as best I could, breaking the largest (still frozen) clumps and raking it out even. There was quite a pile there. Now it's beginning to look more like a lawn. I'll plant grass seed in the spring.

 I also had to move a stack of field stones away before the plumbers arrived. I use those as a splash guard for the downspout. You can see part of them on the right side of this picture. When I finished the dirty work, I had to replace the rocks one at a time.

 And here's how it looked when I wrapped up the project later in the afternoon.
 We're $531 "in the hole" after paying for the plumbing work. Let's hope this continues working for a long time to come. The existing hydrants were here when we bought the house so they certainly have been in use for over a quarter of a century, most likely 50 years (I believe the bricking of the house and garage was done in the 1960's). In any case, the work should survive me.

Bar the door!

  In just six days I'll have lived here at Pinehaven for 27 years. Previously, the longest I lived anywhere was at our second home in Miamisburg for 24 years (1956-1980). Being intimately familiar with a place, you begin to assimilate the structure into your very soul. I know every creak the house makes. I know when the desk in the living room will make a sound after the furnace has been on for some minutes. I can walk through the house in the dark, never having to feel for where I am. Pinehaven is part external body to me. It grows around me like a shell.

 Every waking day, I'm opening and closing doors. I often stop, though, and think about other hands that have grasped these same fixtures and I am somewhat taken aback by the shock of it. These same doors opened and closed to others! It is heady thought because I am no more than a visitor here, passing through.

 Take the second floor bathroom door for instance:

 This door has clearly had a torturous past. A somewhat modern sliding lock holds it closed. A wooden thread spool serves as white-painted handle. A keyhole sits below, unused ... unusable.
 To understand why, have a look at the other side:

 Did I say "torturous past" without reason? At one time in the house's distant past (probably late 1800's to the turn of the century), this door held a fine lock assembly with a skeleton key mechanism. It was ripped wholly from the door. How I would like to travel back in time to that event and see (and hear!) what happened. (This room would not have been a bathroom initially; there was no indoor plumbing at that time).
 I imagine the door was locked and someone wanted in. Now! They pulled and pulled the door with great force until the wood split asunder. Repairs were made with a wooden spool and a bolt placed through its center.
 (What's even more interesting to me is that this tiny room has two doors)
 I may have found the lock mechanism that once bared this door:

 I found it in the barn. The mechanism, if held against the splintered wood, seems to fit the profile. The lock was patented in 1863, mid-way through the Civil War. Abraham Lincoln had less than 21 months to live.

 This is the handle on the outside on my bedroom door. Clearly, this door is another that has seen better days. The wood is split from a violent pull in this direction (from outside the room). I have never repaired any of these defects. I like better to see them and reminisce about the wooden past. I would not cover up the violence. I would show it to the world for what it is.
 The wall in my bedroom above my desk has a bulbous wave to it. It is not flat. And though I might have sanded it down smooth when I removed the wallpaper after we first moved in, I'd never have considered it. I love character and perfect lacks it.

 I call this our "Rube Goldberg" latch. It locks the door going from Mom's bedroom out into the attic above the kitchen. That attic did not exist in the original house so this lock is not so old. Still, was there any need for the mechanism to be so complicated? I think the slide lock (original picture) makes more sense.
 And yet this is beautiful, is it not? It doesn't merely lock the door: it causes your mind to leave the road, wrecks it somewhere along the way, causes you to consider complication as the mother of invention. It doesn't just lock the door; it shows you how securely it is locked.

 I look at each of these locks daily, lay my hand where other flesh has grasped and know full well that while I hope to open other doors, I mostly open those already swung wide in the past.

Pinehaven is now an e-book

 Yesterday - Christmas Day - Pinehaven was released as a Kindle e-book. It's available by clicking here for just $0.99.

 This is a Second Edition (2013), different from the original print version ... 37 errors were corrected and some formatting changes were made (page numbers were removed, for instance).

I appreciate the wonderful support through the past 14 years and hope the electronic version receives a wide readership. Feedback is important. My final favor would be to ask you to leave a review on Amazon.com.