Cabin Life – #86

Well, it’s finally happened, I have electricity.  Granted, it’s not much The Panelelectricity, but it’s a start.  I don’t need enough to run appliances or a whole house, just enough so that my phone and computer don’t go dead, and hopefully a light or two to read by.

A few months ago I got an email from a reader who said he had an old solar panel lying around and didn’t need or want it anymore.  It was mine, he said, if I just came and picked it up.  You never know who you’re meeting through an email, so I was a little wary.  So, fighting the urge to tell everyone where I was going and with whom just in case I didn’t make it back, I drove the little ways to his camp.  I did bring my girlfriend with me, you know, for protection.

He was nice enough to pick us up at the boat launch and give us a ride out to his camp.  It was a nice place, bigger than mine, but much better set up.  He had running water, internet, and a beautiful location right on the water.  We got the solar panel and hung out for a little while, then headed back to the car.

I’m sad to admit it, but that was almost three months ago.  For three months, I’ve had this solar panel sitting in the cool shade of my shed, doing nothing.  I even had the charge controller and a deep cycle battery, but was too busy (lazy) to get around to hooking the thing up.

So this week I pulled everything out to the yard and set I up just to see what would happen.  The charge controller showed a charge, and I was angry with myself for putting off what turned out to be a ten minute job.

I left the panel out all day in full sun and went to town to buy an inverter.  I picked up a nice one and did some other errands before getting back home in the evening.  I was excited and ripped open the package for the inverter and hooked it up.  It immediately started flashing and beeping, and not in a good way.  The charge was too low on the battery to power the inverter.

No big deal I thought, it’ll take a couple of days for the battery to get fully charged.  But, since everything else seemed to be working, I set the panel up in its full-time place on the south side of the porch.  I moved the battery onto the porch and drilled a couple of small holes for the wires to run through.  I then fed the wire through, and the positive wire was about eight inches too short.  Of course.

The next day I went to the hardware store (again) and picked up some wire.  The thing was now fully set up and actively charging.  But not fast enough.  I took the battery to work the next day and plugged it in to the trickle charger.

Now, the battery is fully charged, the panel is up and running and hopefully it will be enough juice to keep the battery charged.  It’s a big step up in the cabin life, and the prospect of having light this winter is very exciting.

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Cabin Life – #83

I really enjoy fall weather, just not in July.  The last few nights have been The New Shedbeautiful, though cold.  I really struggled on Wednesday on whether or not I would get a fire going in the stove.  I decided not to, based solely on principle.  I will not be using my woodstove in July.  I just won’t do it.

But it has made the evenings pleasant.  The water is warm when we go swimming, and the heat isn’t as oppressive as last week.  On top of the coolness of the nights, they have also been really clear.  With a big moon in the sky and the stars shining, it’s been great.  As the moon moves to one side of the sky, the stars come out on the other, making a whole-sky panorama with the Milky Way visible on one end, and nothing but the slate gray sky around the moon on the other.

Now that the wood shed is done and partially stocked, I’ve been able to relax a little bit after work.  Ed and Herbie get to go outside for a while and the chickens have been enjoying eating bugs and grass in their run.

I was sitting on the boulder that serves as my front step the other evening, letting the day’s accumulated warmth keep me comfortable.  Pico and Herbie were lying in the dirt by the car, but Ed was not immediately in sight.  I then noticed something moving off to my left in the taller grass.  A lifetime of toys and free food have left Ed lacking in the hunting skills department, but he still gives it a good effort.

I watched as he not-so-subtly snuck down through the grass and toward the chicken run.  It took him a while to get up the nerve, but he finally launched an attack and ran smack into the fencing.  He seemed to have taken the girls by surprise, but they were safe the whole time.  They squawked and ran around a bit, but settled back into the rhythm of being chickens.  Ed settled in at the end of the run and hung out for a while to watch them, no doubt dreaming of hunting glory.  Soon, they’ll be bigger than he is, and I’m not sure how Ed will handle that, psychologically.

After watching Ed for a few minutes, I glanced over at the new shed.  I have a full cord of wood in there, and will need probably another two full cords to get through the winter.  I like the way the shed turned out, and with a grand total cost of about fifteen bucks, I think it was a good project to get done.

My dad had come up to help me build it, and along with my friend, we built the whole thing in about four hours.  I used a bunch of old lumber from underneath Upper Camp and only had to buy a box of wood screws.  The old metal roofing has holes in it, but they’re small and it will keep the vast majority of rain and snow off my wood.  It’s comforting to have it built, though now I really feel the pressure to get it filled.  Unfortunately, I’ll have to buy some fire wood this winter, but it won’t be as much as last year.

When my neighbor came up to brush hog the lower field, he noticed the new shed.  He said that he’s built a few sheds, and the biggest problem is that when you build a new shed, you fill it up, leaving you no choice but to build another shed at some point.  I like building things, so this wouldn’t be so bad, but luckily this new shed will be filled and emptied by the time next summer roles around.

Now I just need to figure out what else can go into a shed, so I can build another one.

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Cabin Life – #81

I just got back from the neighbor’s house, where we had a couple of beers The Big Snakesby the fire.  Even though I tend to have a beer by the fire whenever it’s not raining, it is nice to share the fire with friends.  Plus, how often do you get to drive a four-wheeler to your friend’s house?  On top of the pleasant evening, it is actually starting to feel like summer.  We’ve had almost three whole days without rain.  I am really excited.

There’s been a lot going on out here at the cabin.  I bought a new woodstove and am waiting for it to be delivered.  The new woodshed will be up and doing its job within a week.  The chickens are growing and the coop will be built and operational in two weeks.  The peas in the garden are growing like crazy, and the few that I’ve eaten were sweet and crisp.

But on another note, the snakes may be getting a little comfortable in the yard.  Now, granted, I don’t mind snakes and appreciate the services that they provide, but I had a bit of a run-in with a few, and they’re getting on my nerves just a touch.

Last week, we had a warm, sunny day for the first time in a while.  I got the four-wheeler going and took a ride down the road.  It’s about a mile to where the pavement starts, and I cruised up there and turned around.  Not long after I turned around, I was startled by something on the handlebars.  There was a decent-sized garter snake winding its way around the cables and controls down back into the body of the machine.

The snake wasn’t big, and before I could grab it, it slithered down the controls and under the plastic body.  I glanced down in there to see if it was easily accessible and noticed a bunch of stuff that kind of looked like a nest.  When I leaned over a little farther, I could clearly see two more little garters curled up in the nest, and the one from the handlebars making its way around.

I was startled, but took off for home and figured I’d dig them out when I got back.  I pulled into the yard and my friend pointed out to me that there was a rather large snake head poking out from under the seat, right where her legs had been dangling on our ride.  Now, I’m not afraid of garter snakes and routinely remove them from places where I don’t want them (like in the chicken cage).  But this one seemed big enough that if it did bite me, it would hurt.

Unfortunately, it’s head was resting directly on the release that would allow me to remove the seat and therefore remove the snake.  It seemed pretty docile, maybe a little woozy from the ride, but I grabbed a glove and pushed the snake’s head back out of the way and released the seat.

As I pulled the seat off, I was amazed at the size of this snake.  It’s body was wound around itself quite a few times, and it’s girth was enormous.  I followed the contour of its body all the across the width of the four-wheeler and realized that this snake had a head at either side of the seat.  This was two snakes, both equally large, wide and, luckily, docile.

I grabbed each one and tossed them into the long grass at the edge of the driveway.  They were hands down the largest garter snakes I have ever seen, and the fact that they were that close to my crotch made me uneasy.  I decided to leave the four-wheeler parked in the shorter grass, and walked over to the rock pile where it had been parked.  As I walked up and picked up the tarp, I saw seven different little snakes take off into the grass.  Hopefully they find a nice place to nest.  It just can’t be in my house, car, or four-wheeler.

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Cabin Life – #72

The last week has been nothing but sunshine and warmth.  The change in Daffodils and Plowseasons was quick, and it seems like we went from zero to sixty in the temperature department, but it’s been good for the mind.  The trees are blooming and the daffodils are shining bright yellow in the hot sun.  It’s a good time of year even though my nose won’t stop running and my eyes are always itchy.

The last time I got an allergy test was a few years ago in Jacksonville.  The doctor pricked both of my forearms with different allergens.  On my right forearm were things like dust mites and pet dander.  On my left arm were all the different types of pollen.  After about five minutes, the nurse checked in on me and saw my left arm.  She left and came back with the doctor, who decided that the red, swollen flesh necessitated immediate action.  He cleaned up my arm and handed me a bright red inhaler that he recommended I carry with me at all times.

Last year, my allergies weren’t so bad.  With everything blooming early in March and then getting frozen in April, the pollen never really went that crazy.  But now that we’re done with winter, I’m not really looking forward to seeing a wave of yellow air coming towards me.  I can only hope that in the next few weeks we get some rain.  It’s really dry up here, but my reason for wishing for rain is selfish.  A few well placed days of rain during the pollen onslaught can mean the difference between a normal spring and a horrible spring for me.

Hopefully this spring isn’t too bad.  But even if the pollen is yellowing the air, at least there’s no snow on the ground anymore.  I don’t have to hike into the cabin and I don’t have to worry about the woodstove.  It’s amazing how much of my time is spent handling and thinking about the stove though.  Even now, I’m starting to haul logs out of the woods down to the yard to buck and split for next year’s supply.  It’s been in the seventies for a week and I’m still working on firewood.

Even though the weather has turned and I actually enjoy working outside running the chainsaw, it’s a bit draining to already be preparing for winter.  It’s only May, and I’m thinking ahead to October, wondering if when all is said and done if I’ll have enough wood set aside or if I’ll have to buy some.  Will I be able to build a new wood shed or empty out the old one and fill it to the brim?  What kind of new wood stove am I going to buy?  Should I go with stainless steel or black chimney pipe?  These are the questions I’ll be working on all summer.

I’m not sure how I feel about that.  Sitting here now, with the sun burning off the morning chill, do I really want to spend the few nice months a year we get up here working on winter projects?  I don’t really have much of a choice I guess.  I just hope I can remember to enjoy the warmth while I work on winter projects.  Because a winter without a summer is nothing to look forward to.

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Cabin Life – #70

I made my maple syrup yesterday, and it turned out really good.  I know Maple Syrupbecause I drank more than a couple shots of boiling sap and syrup during the process.  I did not mind the taste-testing.  Due to the incredibly windy conditions up here and the fact that there’s a residential burn-ban in effect, I decided to boil down the sap at Amy’s.  I ended up with about five and a half gallons of sap which boiled down nicely to about a pint and a half of syrup.  Not a ton, but enough to enjoy and even share.  Making and tasting the syrup was a much needed break after the events of the past week.  I think most of us needed a distraction or two this week.

For the last few days, I’ve felt like I was constantly fighting back tears.  The heartbreak in Boston affected me more than I expected.  I had no family or close friends anywhere near the scene of devastation.  I have never come close to feeling the type of fear and panic that those who were there must have felt.  I had no connection to the tragedy whatsoever, yet I’ve felt like crying for a full forty-eight hours.

I have always been an information junkie, and following the bombing I was once again unable to tear myself from the news.  I don’t watch TV news, but was plastered to the internet with a morbid curiosity that I would not be able to explain.  After a day of taking it all in, I wanted to not read about the tragedy anymore.  I was burnt out on the news and was starting to get to a point where I needed to read about other things.

I turned to an online running community that I belong to for a distraction, and found that there were quite a few of us in the same boat.  We were not marathoners or victims, just people who go running sometimes and were having difficulty processing the events.  Then I started to hear about the “anger runs.”  The more experienced and dedicated runners were going out for a run not because it was in their schedule, but because they were angry, and running was the only way they knew how to deal with it.

I took this advice and went for my own anger run.  I was angry that this had happened.  I was angry that so many runners didn’t get to finish their race.  I was angry that so many people were injured.  I was angry at the people who were already blaming whole religions and races.  I was just angry.

I went to the gym to go for a run in the hopes that I could watch a little TV and take my mind off it.  My usual program on the treadmill is to run for an hour and watch Sports Center.  But even they were talking about Boston.  It was a sporting event, after all.  About ten minutes in to the run I started to flip channels.  I found some old Fresh Prince of Bel-Air reruns and zoned out.

As I started to sweat and breathe hard I couldn’t help but feel a little better.  Burning off some pent up energy and getting exercise was doing me good.  I could start to think back on the events and my response to them with a little less emotion, and a little more insight.  I began to realize that it wasn’t the anger or sadness which had been bringing tears to my eyes.

The tears were being caused by a sad joy.  Amongst all the tragedy, I kept seeing pictures of people rushing in to help.  I saw all the posts about strangers being put up and fed by other strangers.  Pizza places handing out free food.  Restaurants opening their doors to charge a cell phone or use the Wi-Fi even if you didn’t have the money to buy anything.  These are the things that were bringing a tear to my eye.

I moved out to this cabin and drastically altered my lifestyle in an attempt to eliminate stress from my life.  It has not been entirely successful, but for the most part my simplified life is a pleasure to live.  However, it’s hard not to be affected when something of this magnitude occurs.  As Mr. Rogers said, we have to look for the helpers in times of tragedy.  Luckily, the people of Boston and all of us directly or indirectly affected will never have to look too far.  That’s what I’m taking comfort in, and I hope you can too.

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Cabin Life – #68

We’re here in April, and there’s still quite a bit of snow on the ground.  The Spring Streamdays have been warm enough to start melting the snow, but the cold nights and occasional snow showers have hampered the quick onset of spring.  Pico and I went for a last ski down the railroad tracks near a friend’s house the other day, but now the snowshoes and skis are stashed, and unless something crazy happens with the weather, I think it’s time to call it a season.

A couple of weeks ago, it was so warm that we got our first taste of mud season.  Now, for those of you who don’t know, mud season in a semi-official time of year between winter and spring.  Mud season is not something that is well celebrated, but in some ways, it can be the best time of the year.

For me and the cabin, mud season is no picnic.  I live at the end of a one mile long dirt road with limited maintenance and no neighbors.  When there’s a couple of inches of snow on the road and it’s frozen solid, it’s a pretty nice drive.  But winter is the when the road is at its best, and mud season is when it’s at its worst.  Mud season is when the road gets wet, and it gets really wet.  There are several streams that cross the road at just a couple of locations.  These streams are all intermittent flows from springs up on the ridge.  I have two of these streams flowing through the property out here, but they join below my cabin and mark the end of the road.

The three or so drainages along the road however, can turn it into a sloppy mess.  Even with four wheel drive, I get tossed around and turned sideways in the two inch thick sludge.  This is a public road, and there’s always one guy with a huge truck that feels compelled to drive down the road at forty miles an hour, creating huge ruts which then freeze overnight and make my daily commute more than a little rough.

Luckily, the entire length of the road isn’t quite this bad.  During Hurricane Irene a couple years ago, the small streams turned into enormous torrents of white water.  Those small flows ripped out drainage pipes going under the road in two spots and created a large sinkhole up near my end of the road.  When the town fixed these issues, they did a good job and re-did whole sections with large crushed stone.  But, it’s the kind of sharp, angular stone that gives me a flat tire or two each year.  At least those sections aren’t muddy.  I’m really not sure how to feel about that.

The driveway is another matter.  After being forced to hike in for another couple of weeks, I can finally drive the car all the way up to the cabin.  It’s nice to be able to do that instead of stashing a sled at the bottom of the driveway and walking in dragging it behind.  There’s still quite a bit of snow and ice on the driveway because a big part of it doesn’t get much sun.  I think I should be all set to get in and out until next winter though.  It was a hassle parking at the bottom of the hill and hiking up to the cabin.  I just hope that mud season gets done in a hurry, otherwise I might have a much longer hike.

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Cabin Life – #67

I love my dog Pico.  But there are times when he can be extremely The First Spileannoying.  Like right now, he’s licking my elbow and won’t stop.  I lifted my arm up off the table but he just jumped up on me to keep on licking.  I don’t know why he is doing this or what I could have possibly gotten on my elbow to make him want to lick it so bad.  He’s just a little weird sometimes.

I noticed another oddity out here this week.  I tapped a few maple trees so I could make a little sap this year.  Last year, I was all primed to do the work, but then maple season came and went in a week in February, and I was caught off guard and left with no syrup.

This year is a test run.  I bought some taps and used a few old milk jugs as buckets.  Trying to do it on the quick and cheap, I’m really only expecting a couple servings of syrup.  I don’t have the equipment or the time right now to handle a big production, but now that I know what I’m getting into, I can make a bunch of syrup next spring.

Last winter I found a cluster of nice maples not too far from the cabin, and never touched them.  But this year I picked up a bag of spiles at the local hardware store and the proper size drill bit. A friend and I took Pico, the taps, jugs, and drill out to the trees.  The sun was shining and it was perfect weather for sap to run.  As soon as the drill bit broke through the bark, a big, fat drop of sap coursed down the rough exterior of the tree.  The drill then died.

My cordless drill, which I’ve had since college, made a hole about half an inch deep and just stopped turning.  I jammed a tap into the hole to see how bad it was, and the tap stuck out a ridiculous amount.  No way would it be able to keep a full jug from falling to the ground.  I pulled the battery out of the drill and locked the bit in place.  I used the body of the drill as a handle and finished the hole using my power drill as a hand drill.  This is why I only placed three taps this year.

The next couple of days were cold and I didn’t think the sap would run that much.  From the yard I could see the jugs on the trees and knew that they hadn’t fallen or gotten blown off.  When I went and checked the jugs after two days, I noticed the irregularity that I was not expecting.  The smallest tree had given me the most sap, and the biggest tree had given me basically no sap.

Now, there could be many factors for this discrepancy independent of the size of the tree.  I just found it odd that this was the case.  I figured bigger tree equals more sap.  But maybe I did something wrong drilling the hole.  Maybe I put the tap in at too much of an angle.  Maybe the stupid tree just doesn’t produce that much sap.

After three days, I had a gallon of sap.  At this rate, I might be able to put my own syrup on one pancake.  But that’s not really the point this year.  I just want to try something I’ve never done before and see how it comes out.  That’s what this whole experience has been about too.  To try something I’ve never done before and see what happens.  And maybe that’s why Pico was licking my elbow earlier.  He just forgot that he’s done it before and wanted to see what he might find.

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Cabin Life – #66

Well, they say that spring is here, but the eighteen inches of snow on the Horse Stable Fenceground out here says otherwise.  While show shoeing up in the back of the property, I took an old ax handle and checked the snow depth.  There’s still two feet of snow where the sun doesn’t shine.

I needed a break this week.  The wood stove is once again giving me problems with negative pressure causing smoke to come into the cabin.  I would be a lot more worried about this if it was December or January, but since it’s the end of March, it’s really not bothering me that much.  Obviously, the stove and the chimney need to be replaced, but now is not the time for that.

I can get by for a few weeks, occasionally staying at friend’s houses or just getting a small fire going to take the chill out of the air at night.  I’m done having a fire going all the time now though since I would really like to avoid having the cabin burn down.  Luckily, the end is in sight and the days are warm and sunny enough that I don’t need a fire.

I’ve spent the week sleeping at a friend’s house, with the cats and Pico.  I’m still spending my days and evenings at the cabin, but taking advantage of the offer of an “on-grid” place to stay.  It’s been really nice having internet and TV and hot water.  I know I’m not the only one who feels that it’s time for winter to hit the road, and I enjoy knowing that the end is near.

But in the mean time, I’m taking advantage of the warm days and the sun staying up much later.  I like not falling asleep at six in the afternoon, and the solar lights are working well with the increased daylight.  The solar radio still doesn’t get enough juice during the day for more than an hour or so of listening time though.

This is also my favorite time of year to go skiing and snow shoeing.  There’s enough snow on the ground that it’s still easy to bushwhack through the woods without getting caught on downed trees or branches.  My girlfriend and I went for a snow shoe the other day to check on Upper Camp and just kind of explore the woods behind the log cabin.  We had no problem with obstructions, but definitely needed the snow shoes to get around.

For most of the fall, I was looking for an old double-bit ax to rehab.  I decided it would be easier to just buy a new one, so I did.  But on our trek to Upper Camp, I checked the wood shed and barn to make sure that no critters had moved in.  I found an old double-bit ax in each of the buildings.  The handles are shot, the heads are pocked and rusty, and the edges are most likely too far gone to make either ax all that useful again.  But I grabbed them and carried them back to my cabin anyway.

I’m going to clean them up and put new handles in even if I don’t get to use the axes for anything other than decoration.  It’s part of the feeling of spring that I want to rehab something that’s pretty much useless.  The season is changing and it’s a chance for all of us to rehab our mental states and start looking again for the simple beauty in the world.

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Cabin Life – #65

Well, we had a nice March thaw.  I’m not sure it really made things better, Wood Pilebut it sure was pleasant to have a couple days of sunshine and warmth.  I was even able to let the fire go out for about thirty-six hours, marking the longest period I’ve gone without a fire in the wood stove since January.

While I enjoyed shoveling in just a shirt with no gloves necessary, I was still a little upset at having to shovel.  Needless to say, I have had more than my fill of shoveling this winter.  The driveway is passable, but not in good shape.  The ruts I made when the snow was soft are now essentially the tracks I have to take to get in and out of the cabin.  I basically have no say in how I get up and down the driveway, but so far, I’ve still been able to drive it.  I don’t mind hiking, but if it can be avoided, it seems silly to hike.

I did lose a lot of snow this week though.  I was listening to NCPR the other day and they said that there was no snow left where they are in Canton.  I am jealous, and still sporting about a foot of snow everywhere.  And now it’s snowing again.  Oh well, April is close, and with the days getting longer, it’s only a matter of time before the white stuff is gone.

In the mean time, the loss of almost two feet of snow has made it easier to complete some chores.  If I’m home during the day, I can burn the junk wood that’s out front under a couple of tarps.  I don’t mind burning the softwood, even though it means checking the chimney regularly.  I’ve been saving the little hardwood I have left for when I’m not going to be home for a while.  So far, it’s working out alright.

The other thing I do a couple of days a week which is now easier is taking the bucket to the compost bin.  I would just have a compost pile, but Pico is a little too eager to eat whatever is in there to leave the compost unguarded by some fence.

With no running water, I have to haul in all the water I use.  I use snow and ice to keep the kettle on top of the stove full, but that’s just for some humidity in the air.  Amy lets me fill my five-gallon jug at her house, and I go through about ten gallons per week.  Last winter, I was using the sink and drain, and the drain kept freezing.  It’s just a black plastic pipe that runs out into the woods behind the cabin.  As the drain kept freezing, I assumed that this was a unique situation.  I’m probably the only person who has no running water or indoor plumbing and still has to deal with frozen pipes.

So I disconnected the drain and replaced it with an old cat litter bucket.  The bucket under the sink doesn’t hold five gallons, but since a lot of my water gets drunk by either myself or the animals, I only have to empty the bucket a couple times a week.  Since it goes onto the compost, it’s almost like I have a garbage disposal.  All my scrap from cooking and washing dishes goes into the bucket and right out to the compost bin.

It may be a small accomplishment, but I’m pretty proud of the system.  I don’t waste any food scraps, nor does the water just go down the drain to foul up the woods where it drains.  Since I’m often cooking for one with a limited supply of water, there’s not a lot of waste.  But the compost bin is slowly filling up, and once I start adding dead leaves and grass, I should have a nice product in a year or two.  As long as Pico doesn’t eat it all.

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Cabin Life – #64

There’s a gentle thud as another icicle falls off the roof and lands in the soft, Melting Snowheavy snow on the ground.  It’s not that warm today, but warm enough to sit out on the porch and read for a while.  I needed a winter hat to sit out there, though the sun was warm when it poked out from behind the clouds.

There’s a noticeable difference in the amount of snow on the ground.  It’s not really melting, but it is disappearing.  Almost like the surface of the snow isn’t changing, but just sinking closer and closer to the ground.  The days haven’t been very warm, but we’re starting to get those days when it feels a little humid out.  This is the snow’s way of saying goodbye I presume.

While it hasn’t been warm enough to let the fire go out in the wood stove, I have been able to get by burning softwood during the day.  And a single load of hardwood has been lasting me all night.  It’s a far cry from January and February when I would have to get up a few times per night to add wood to the stove.

I’ve been stretching the hardwood supply and I think I’ll be all right for the rest of the year.  I’m hoping for a warm April, and can’t wait for the flowers to start blooming and the leaves to start growing.  Even though I know that my allergies will not be easy to deal with.

I’ve been wondering why this winter seems more difficult than last winter.  I think the biggest reason is that the novelty has worn off.  Last year there was furniture to move, wood to gather and split, property to explore and the adventure of a new endeavor.  I haven’t felt any of that this year.

I took several steps to make life out here easier this winter.  From the lights to the radio, and having established a procedure to wash dishes, this winter should have been a cake walk compared to the unknowns of last year.  But now all the chores that were novel last winter are just effort this winter.  Hauling in water is a pain.  Cleaning the chimney is no fun.  Getting up at four in the morning to put wood in the stove is, well, work.

I think that though the freshness of the experience has worn off, it’s been a good reminder of how much I can do without.  I have no intention of ever moving back “on grid,” but I also have no plan of living the rest of my life deprived of indoor plumbing.

While I sit out here and crank my radio, I like to think about what my own off grid house will look like.  There will be a heat source other than a woodstove so I can leave for more than twelve hours at a time.  There will be hot running water and an indoor toilet.  Once I get settled, I do not want to have to keep a toilet seat hanging on my wall above the wood stove.  Sure, it’s nice for now, but I really don’t want to be that guy for the next forty or fifty years.

I’ve learned a lot living out here and no matter where I go from now on, I will take these lessons to heart.  Plus, I would have a hard time learning to pay bills again.  That’s the one thing that, even though I was able to give it up, really keeps on giving back to me.

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