DEEP FREEZE - Opening segment (Scroll down for previous chapters)


     I braced myself against the bone-chilling cold.  It penetrated every part of my body.  I wiggled my toes and fingers to be sure they were still attached.  I should have dressed more warmly, but here I was kneeling in front of the old woodstove in my underwear, trying to start a fire.  I struck a match, then another match, but they refused to be lit.  I threatened the rest of them with a good hosing if they didn’t cooperate.  I didn’t want to be found in the spring, lying curled up by the old stove, still clutching a box of matches.  I finally got a cooperative match.  I shared its flame with the newspaper resting amongst the kindling.  Then I ran back and jumped in bed, waiting for the fire to start crackling before I added some more wood. 

     About fifteen minutes later, my wife got up to check the fire.  “You’d better come in here and threaten this newspaper,” she yelled, shivering in the cold.  “The paper didn’t stay lit.  It looks like it just received some minor smoke damage.  Do we have any hay?”  She loved to remind me of my proficiency at starting fires with hay.  I finally resorted to the blow torch and had a roaring fire within minutes, barely keeping it within the confines of the woodstove.   

     We had moved into the old 1930’s farmhouse in August.  By mid-November, we were being assaulted by heavy snow and falling temperatures.  Soon we would be in the midst of a record-setting deep freeze.  I was hoping to use the challenges of the old farmhouse for family bonding, but I now feared we might crack and shatter before we had a chance to bond.             

     With no insulation, the cold marched right in and made itself at home.  It didn’t even have the courtesy to knock first.  The cold became so comfortable, I was afraid it would never leave.  The kids complained of freezer burn.  Our family became an experiment in a giant meat locker.  

 

     With the old woodstove as our only source of heat, we had prepared for the worst.  It was far worse.  After several licks at the ice on his water bowl, our cat disappeared.  We feared his demise.  But a week after his disappearance, we received a post card with a paw print from Palm Springs.  Cats are so innovative and self-sufficient.  We saved the litter box, knowing he would return in the Spring.      

 

To combat the deep freeze, I sought the advice of a friend, Flynn Willie, who had experience in cold weather survival training. 

 

 

To be continued...check back soon