DEEP FREEZE - Segment 4 (Scroll down for previous segments)     

     
     After a little more chatter, we all sat down to eat.  Dinner was filled with reminiscing and laughter.  While eating, Ginger noticed one of our windows.  “Oh, Connie, I love what you’ve done to your windows,” she said.  “Those ornate etchings are simply beautiful.  How did you do it?”

     “I didn’t,” answered Connie.  “It’s frost.”

    “Inside?” quizzed Ginger.

    “Why do you think Connie told us to finish eating before the food freezes,” said Butch in amusement. 

    

     After dinner, we spent more time visiting around the woodstove.  “I can see why this woodstove is such a great gathering place,” said Butch.  “I can feel the ice flow in my veins starting to break up.” 

     As we warmed, we continued talking into the late evening until it was time for bed.  

 

    “Go ahead and take our room,” Connie told Ginger.  “It has a warm waterbed.”  There was no argument.

    “I was prepared to offer anything, even our children, just for a warm blanket,” said Butch.

     Everyone laughed as we reluctantly left our spot near the woodstove.  

    

     It wasn’t long before we heard the voice of Butch.  “I know this sounds silly,” he said, “but why is a deer hanging in the utility?” 

     “We kept running into him in the living room,” I answered.    “Besides, he didn’t go with the furniture.” 

     “That’s too bad,” said Butch.  “He would have been a nice conversation piece.”

     “My good friend, Fred got him while hunting a couple weeks ago.   He said the temperature inside the house was the ideal temperature for hanging a deer.  So I told him to dress it out, and he could hang it here.” 

     “I like the way he dressed it out,” said Butch.  “The pull-over sweater and khaki pants go very well together.  I think it’s the first time I’ve seen khaki pants with four legs.  

  

     “My wife did that,” I said.  “She thought the deer would look better if it were fully dressed.  I think she’s going to decorate it with Christmas lights and hang it by the front window if Fred doesn’t pick it up soon.” 

    “I don’t mind the deer,” said Butch.  “But if I see his breath, I’m going hunting.”

     After a final laugh, we turned out the lights and went to sleep. 

     During the night... 

   


   

DEEP FREEZE - Segment 3 (Scroll down for earlier segments)


    I tried to explain to her, “People don’t want to hear how comfortable you are; they want to hear about your miserable, wretched life, as you struggle against the elements.  They want to hear about rugged individualism; surviving a winter in an old farmhouse with barely enough heat to melt the frost on the sofa.  So stomp out that fire you started on the carpet, and hand me my gloves so I can start writing.  On second thought, I guess I need to go to the library to write.”

     “Why can’t you write here?” she insisted.

    “Ink freezes at this temperature,” I answered.

    When I returned home, Connie was busy filling out papers.  “What are those?” I asked.

     “Adoption papers,” she answered.

     “I don’t think we can afford more children,” I informed her. 

     “I’m not trying to adopt,” she went on.  “I’m putting US up for adoption.  Hopefully there is someone out there who will take in a family of four, with one request; that we be placed with a family that has heat in every room.  And it would be nice if I didn’t have to brush my teeth with de-icer.” 

     “Look at the positive side,” I said.  “The cold has killed all the bugs; the mice have gone south with the cat and the vultures have been grounded because of ice buildup on their wings.  Besides, cold is a great preservative.  It prevents aging.” 

     “That’s because nothing is moving.  I’d rather see some moving parts, preferably on a warm, sandy beach in Hawaii.”

 

     As the deep freeze continued, we had friends visit.  They were apparently hoping for the same rich experiences our kids had enjoyed before they left to live with friends.  A cold north wind was blowing when Butch and Ginger arrived

     “Welcome to the old farmhouse,” said Connie.   Our warm woodstove acted like a magnet, pulling Butch and Ginger through the door and to its side.   “Wow!” exclaimed Butch.  “That’s the first time I’ve ever been pulled through a door by a woodstove.  But, I must say, I’m extremely grateful.  After reading about the farmhouse in Wake’s Christmas letter, I thought he was exaggerating about the cold.  But now I think he was lying; it’s much colder.” 

     “Is it always this cold inside?” Ginger asked.

     “Only when it’s this cold outside,” Connie answered.

 

     After a little more chatter...

To be continued

DEEP FREEZE - Segment 2 (Scroll down for opening segment)


      To combat the deep freeze, I sought the advice of a friend, Flynn Willie, who had experience in cold weather survival training.  “You’ll never survive the deep freeze in this old farmhouse without ‘mind over matter,’” he said bluntly.  “Remember how your baseball coach would tell you a broken leg was all in your mind, even if it were pointing in three different directions?” he asked.

     “How could I forget?” I answered, resting on a crutch.

     “Well, cold is the same.  It’s a state of mind.”

     “What about toes that fall off?” I asked.  “Is that a state of mind?” 

     “Absolutely,” he answered. 

     In case he was wrong, I got a box to keep my toes in until they could be re-attached during the spring thaw.  It was beginning to look like a long winter. 

     As the deep freeze intensified, we confronted it with “mind over matter.”  We discovered that doesn’t work when matter is frozen.   

     Every morning we did penance by walking across frozen floors.  “Just once, I would love hot coals,” said my wife.

     I was glad we had a large woodstove that our family could huddle around to stay warm.   I was sad when it developed a crack and had to be replaced by a new E.P.A.-approved woodstove.      

     Our new “pollution solution” woodstove eliminated all the smoke coming out our chimney.  Now it was coming out the back of the stove.  I covered my nose and mouth with a handkerchief while I donned my goggles with fog lights so I could find the stove and put out the fire. 

     After a few adjustments, I started another fire.  The smoke stayed in the stove.  But I wondered where it was going now.  Then I went outside.  Oh! There it is, coming out our chimney.  I figured it must be cleaner now since no pollutants had transformed me into a charcoal figurine. 

     Our new woodstove would have fit nicely inside our old woodstove.  Now we would have to take turns huddling by the fire. There was barely enough room for the cat.  Fortunately, our cat had left for the winter.  The rest of us fought for thawing space.   

     One morning, after scraping enough frost off the inside of the windows to make a small snowman, Connie said, “I’m tired of the cold.”  I could sense from her comment that she was tired of the cold. 

     “Why can’t we have a new home?” she pleaded.

     “Where would we put the snowman?  I asked.  “Anyway, what would I write about; that we’re relaxing in our lovely new home, kicking back in a lounge chair, reading a book by the fire?” 

     “I could write it” she answered.

 

 

To be continued...check back soon