Tag Archives: snow

Cabin Life – #95

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The chickens have become escape artists.  I don’t know how they figured Whitey and Midgetout the elaborate trap of chicken wire and plastic that comprises the door to the run, but they’ve managed to get out for two days straight.

I don’t mind letting them roam around when I’m around.  But as the weather gets colder and the predators get more desperate for calories, I’m thinking that the door to the run may have to be reconfigured.  It’s sad to admit, but my half-assed door can’t even contain a bunch of literal bird brains.

It is nice to see them out and about in the yard though.  They have thoroughly picked over the spots where the run had been, and have even seemed to have found some food left over in those spots.  I like seeing them come running up to the front door when I walk out, or see them flying for twenty or thirty feet.  They appear to be happy and content, and their tail feathers are sticking up higher than ever.  I’m not sure how much I should read into the angle of their feathers, but I heard somewhere that if their tail feathers are up, then they’re happy.

At least they have been putting themselves to bed every night.  Usually just past dark I’ll go out and all four of them are huddled up on the perch inside the coop.  They snuggle and cuddle and have so far kept themselves warm, but we haven’t had any of those bitterly cold nights.  Yet.

Since the solar panel has been working well, I figured I should buy a heat lamp for the chickens.  It won’t be long before it gets really cold, and since I don’t want to have four more roommates for the night, I have to heat the coop somehow.

I bought one of those cheap clip-on lamps, an extension cord, and a pack of light bulbs.  I honestly cannot remember the last time I bought light bulbs.  It felt weird.  But I came home and set to installing the heat lamp.

Now, for most people this would entail screwing in the light bulb and then plugging in the cord.  That would be the end of it.   But for me, it involved almost two hours worth of work which included two hand drills, a hammer, chisel, a new hole in my house and an eye pecked by a chicken.

The only drills I have are two hand-crank augers that I picked up at the junk store in Saranac Lake.  For five bucks each, they were a good deal.  That price however, does not include time used in actually cranking those things.  With an electric drill it may have taken me fifteen minutes for the entire project.  But with the low speed of a hand-cranked drill, I could not spin the size bit I needed to be able to fit an outlet through it.

I did manage to make a nice circular mark in the linoleum floor indicating where exactly I needed to remove material.  But that big bit was not spinning anymore.  So, I pull out a small bit and start drilling.  All the way around the hole marked by one bit, I had to make twelve very small holes.  After that, I used the chisel to knock out the hole.

I then had to go outside, remove some of the stones that line the base of the cabin, and reach up to feed the extension cord up through the newly made hole.  Of course, me crawling around on the ground attracted the attention of the escapee chickens.  Midget, who is now full sized, has no fear of me and runs up to me all the time.  This time however, she decided that she would be content to just peck at my face while I was on the ground with both hands occupied searching blindly for a one inch hole in the floor.

As I closed my eyes and turned my head to avoid the love taps from Midget, I finally found the hole.  But of course, the cord did not fit easily through the hole.  I jammed it in there and went inside to pull it through the rest of the way.

I pulled the cord up into the cabin and plugged it in to the inverter.  I had left the lamp in the “on” position so that I could turn it on and off from inside just by pulling the cord from the inverter.  I proudly plugged it in to see if it was working, and sure enough, it was.  I then proceeded to watch two hours of TV on my computer using the battery.  As dusk turned into darkness, I thought maybe I should turn on the light for its first night of use.  But I had drained the battery watching TV.  Luckily, it wasn’t that cold out last night.

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Cabin Life – #94

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I currently have twelve independent fires going inside of my cabin.  The one Recycled Candlesscented candle is making the mixture of burning candles, lamp oil, and spiced apple almost pleasant.  Almost.

This time of year is the roughest, psychologically, out here.  When the sun starts to dip before most people eat dinner, it’s tough for me to stay positive.  Especially on a day like today, when it was overcast all day and never really that bright out, the night seems just about unbearably long.

In order to fight of the dark, I light candles and have battery powered puck lights going.  The one electric light I have is lit up by the door and my best oil lamp is burning bright on the table next to me.  There’s also my ubiquitous head lamp hanging around my neck, though I’ve gotten better this year about not wearing it in public so much.

I brace myself for the onslaught of long, long nights by knowing that before the end of the year, the days will be getting longer.  Perhaps it’s only a couple of minutes a day, but I remind myself every day that after the winter solstice it will get better.

I don’t know why the dark beats me down so much, but I bear it alright.  Not grin and bear it, mind you, just bear it.  On nights like this all I want to do is be inside a nice, brightly lit house.  It seems so much easier to just flick a switch instead of digging out an old half-candle and match it up with one of the holders.  Then I have to keep an eye on them since I don’t know which candles will be dripping like crazy.  I also have to get to them and blow them out before they get too low into the holders, otherwise I’ll be grabbing a screwdriver and digging out what little wax remains.

All in all I guess it’s not too bad though.  I re-melt the stubs into new candles, thereby recycling even the meager little inch of wax that otherwise would go into the garbage.  Compared to my first winter out here, this place is like the Las Vegas Strip at night.  But that’s only a relative observation.

To be honest, I have to choose the stress of basking in darkness for an inordinate amount of my day, or deal with the worry that accompanies having a dozen fires going in my very dry wooden house.  At least I’m not worried as much about the woodstove, but I do think a few more electric lights may be on order soon.

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Cabin Life – #93

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The snow is falling quickly and quietly outside.  I have a nice fire and a glass The First Snowof bourbon to keep me warm and dry though, so all is right with my little world.

I love the first real snow fall of the year.  Everything looks so clean and neat, and the world is quiet.  The birds aren’t making any noise, the few deer that took off running when I let Pico out hardly made a sound, and tree limbs are hanging low, heavy with fresh wet snow.

This is isn’t the first snow of the year, but it’s the first one that might stick and be around for a little while.  Every night before now that I’ve had a fire, I didn’t worry about keeping it going all night.  The new stove cranks out heat, especially when it’s loaded with the dead elm that my friend dropped off for me.  In fact, tonight will the first night that I’ve had a fire where I won’t be going to sleep with a few windows open.

It was gray and cold all day, but above freezing.  It rained and misted and was foul, but then the snow finally started to fall.  We’ve all known that winter was coming, so there is no surprise here, but hoping for a nice easy winter like the one two years ago may be asking for too much.  The skier in me wants to see the snow fly, but the off-grid, no plow-guy-lined-up me wanted a nice easy winter.  With all the rain we’ve been getting though, it was only a matter of time until it turned into snow.  So be it.

After letting the chickens out yesterday morning, I went to wash my hands.  That’s become my morning ritual, mainly because the chickens are kind of gross.  I mean, they poop a lot, and there’s no way of taking care of them without getting some on my hands.

The big white rain barrel I’ve kept all summer has been great for this, and I even took to leaving a bar of home-made soap out on the rock next to the barrel.  Then the soap started to disappear.  I don’t know what was taking it or why, but I still have quite a few bars left to get me through for a while.

The problem yesterday wasn’t a lack of soap though.  I brought some out with me to use right away, but when I tried to turn the handle on the barrel, it didn’t move.  The water wasn’t frozen solid, but the handle and nozzle were.  I had to bring my soap back inside and wash up.  Not that big a deal, you might think, but to me this means a lot.

First, my wash water is gone for the winter.  I’m back to using my precious drinking water to wash, and to give water to the chickens.  No more getting all nasty and just washing up outside.  Now I have to somehow pre-wash my hands so that my drinking water jug doesn’t get contaminated.  I have a feeling that I’ll be melting a lot of snow on the stove this year.

The other thing that I’ll miss about the rain barrel is the feeling of back up and security.  This was not water that I would drink, but coming off the metal porch roof, it was fine enough for the chickens, cats and Pico.  It would also have been fine for washing dishes if it really came down to it as well.

Now, it’s not that I’ll be hurting for water, there are a few places where I can fill my jug, so I’m not losing any sleep over the loss of the rain barrel.  But it was a stark reminder of the comforts of summer, and the lack of ease of winter.

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Cabin Life – #91

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Winter is approaching, and rather more quickly than I would really like.  Fall ColorsSure, I’ve got the new stove and a shed chock full of dry hardwood, but I have to admit that I’ve really enjoyed our summer-like fall.
“They” are calling for snow next week, but we’ll see what happens.

I had an inkling that this was coming anyway.  Yes, I know that it’s October and that it’s a reasonable assumption to think that we’ll be getting snow soon.  But last Friday, I got home from work and opened the front door.  I let Pico and the cats out to enjoy the sunshine and warm weather.  But when I went inside the cabin, I found a sight that told me winter was right around the corner.

The big window was literally covered in ladybugs.  The little ladies and gents like to winter in houses, and since my place is the only building around for quite a distance, it only makes sense that they would seek shelter with me.  But the amount of ladybugs trying to get into my house told me that there would be cold and snow before the forecasters ever did.

Shortly after that, I made a trip to the outhouse.  I don’t talk about my outhouse a lot because I figured that not many (if any) of you would really want to hear about it.  But don’t worry, this story will not be rich in detail.

My outhouse is a piece of junk.  It was apparently built for people even shorter than me, and has at different times been used for target practice.  So despite the small door and low ceiling, there is actually quite a bit of cross-ventilation created by the small holes where the twenty-two caliber shells went through the walls.

As I was sitting there, I heard a familiar sound.  It was the scratchy scramble of a mouse.  There are a couple of mice that call the cabin home, but so far they stay in the walls and don’t really bother me.  But a mouse in the outhouse, that’s something new.

I glanced around and noticed some small pieces of paper trapped in a spider web near the upper corner.  I had accidentally left the toilet paper holder open, and the mouse had helped itself to some of the wrapper.  As I looked around, I also noticed that one of the pieces of plywood that make up the ceiling was peeling apart.  I caught a glimpse of something moving up there and decided that this was a better setup than having them move into the cabin.

A few days later, I was again entering the outhouse and movement caught my eye.  Three very little mice were scrambling up from the seat to the ceiling.  They were in no hurry, and mama mouse leisurely followed them up the wall and into their little nest.

I have to admit, those little mice were awfully cute.  I had no intention of evicting them from their spot, and just need to remember to close the toilet paper holder.  And at this point, I honestly hope they have enough shelter to get them through the winter.  I mean, they did pick a crappy place to live.

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Cabin Life – #90

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Growing up, I lived in only two houses.   Both had fireplaces, so fall was The Lower Fieldalways special to me.  From eating roasted pumpkin seeds in front of the fire to cuddling under a blanket and watching a movie while the snow fell outside, we usually had a fire going if we were home for the night.  I miss those days, but I have taken a big step towards making the cabin more like the home of my childhood.

Last week, my new (new to me) stove was delivered and installed.  There’s a shiny new chimney poking up above the peak of the cabin, and gone is the huge black box that was my old woodstove.  Of course, on the day the stove was delivered, it was close to seventy degrees out, so I could not get a fire going right away.  That did not stop me from sitting and staring at the new stove with its nice glass doors, just beckoning me to get a fire going and sit there enjoying the flames for the first time in years.

After the delivery guys left and the stove was all set, I had to do something to get myself away from the stove.  I won’t lie, I was giddy like a little school girl getting a new doll or videogame or whatever it is that giddy little girls get all giddy about nowadays.

I tore myself away and took Pico for a quick walk down the road.  We don’t get a whole lot of traffic down here, so for about a mile down the road, we’re pretty much assured we won’t run into anyone.  I take these opportunities to let Pico run around and smell whatever animal poop may be on the road.  He loves it, and I love seeing how happy he is to add his scents to the markings of bear, bobcat, and fox.

But believe it or not, I had yet to see a fox out here.  They’re not uncommon in this area, and it’s rarely more than a couple of weeks between sightings when I’m driving to or from work or town.  As we crested the small rise in the road near my neighbor’s camp, Pico stopped suddenly.  I looked up, and down the road about a hundred yards there stood a small red fox, more brown than red really.

He had seen us too, and as I sternly whispered “stay” to Pico, the fox stood his ground.  He was turned broadside to us, and the deep rusty brown of his fur was shining in one of the few sunbeams poking through the trees.  He and Pico stared at each other for a few seconds before Pico gave a quick wag of his tail.

The fox responded in kind, and slowly made his way across the rest of the road and into the fall woods.  Pico looked up at me with his goofy grin and trotted off the pee on some small shrub on the roadside.  I decided that we should turn around there, instead of getting too close to where the fox had been.  I didn’t want Pico bothering him, and I didn’t want him bothering us either.

When we got back to the cabin, I realized that that was the first fox we had come across, and probably the first fox Pico had ever seen.  I liked his reaction, and even though that very same fox could eventually end up with one of my chickens as his dinner, I was glad to have seen him just the same.

I impatiently waited another hour for the sun to go down, and got a small fire going in the new stove.  I sat there and watched the flames licking the top of the stove, glad to be able to add to the ambiance of the cabin.  If this place was lacking anything, it was lacking a fire you could see.  The weather has still been too hot to have another fire, but now I’m in no rush.  The stove is here, and long nights of sitting in front of the fire are something I can actually look forward to.

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Cabin Life – #87

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Every once in a while, I reach for the faucet to turn on the water.  This usually happens The Girlswhen I’m brushing my teeth, but even though there’s a dish rag hanging on the spout and I haven’t had running water in almost two years, this old habit dies hard.

Summer, on the other hand, is dying a very easy and quick death.  As I walked out into the front yard this morning, I noticed a small maple that was almost entirely red.  The birches are beginning to turn yellow and even the big cherry tree in the yard was not so green anymore.

The days have been warm and the nights cool, feeling more like the heart of fall than the end of August.  This is my favorite type of weather, but I’m not quite ready for it yet.  I still want some summer.

Even though we had a late start to summer and what looks like an early end to it as well, I have gotten a lot done, and had a lot of fun.  The wood shed is built and half full, I got the house shed cleaned up and organized, and the chickens are happy in their coop and run.

But really they might not be that happy.  I put them out in the run every day so they can eat bugs and plants and stuff like that.  Every morning I open the coop door and they all fly right in to the run, and in the evening they hop back up the ramp and into the coop to roost for the night.

Since they’re only out during the day, the run is not built as a completely predator-proof structure.  It’s very safe with chicken wire and metal roofing, but the end that I let them in and out of is just a mix of some wire, a piece of wood and some old plastic insulation.  Like I said, this is built to keep them, not keep predators out.  Still, every day when I get home I look into the run on my way up the driveway just to make sure all the girls are still there.

We had a pretty nasty thunderstorm come through yesterday while I was at work.  I thought of the chickens, but was not too worried about them.  However, when I got home, I noticed the insulation flapping in the wind.  I had tacked it shut like always, but the wind had blown it wide open.  There were no chickens in the run.

Pico was barking and Ed was crying at the window, and it had been a long day for Pico and the cats.  I had gotten a flat tire on the way home and so they had been cooped up for ten hours or so.  But I knew that if I let them out, there’s no way I would be able to catch the missing chickens.  That is, assuming the girls hadn’t been eaten yet.

Even though I had kind of self-vowed not to get too attached to the girls, I was worried about them.  There are so many wild animals out here that could easily snatch up a chicken and trot off into the woods.  Chances are all I would find would be a couple piles of feathers to tell where the girls had been eaten.

Then it dawned on me.  All along, when I fed the chicks, I had always called out “Hey Ladies!” ala the Beastie Boys.  I was hoping that Pavlov was right and the girls would associate my call with the presence of food.  I called out and within a few seconds, Midget and Brownie came out of the tall grass and trotted right up to me.  I smiled and grabbed them and tossed them in the coop.  I called out again and both Blondie and Whitey came out as well.  I had to chase Whitey as usual but I finally caught her and put her in the coop as well.  Blondie jumped in on her own when I opened the door.  I tossed in a handful of bird seed to keep them happy.  After all, my distinct chicken call had worked well, so I guess I want to keep them coming to it.

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Cabin Life – #86

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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

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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 – #78

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Well, there’s finally been a bit of a break in the rain, and even though the Future Chicken Coopbugs are bad and the hammock is soaked, I’m really enjoying sitting outside in the sun.  After spending the last couple of weeks cleaning up the yard, I’m about ready to move on to another project.  Fortunately and unfortunately, my next project has a deadline of two weeks.  That’s when I will be getting chickens, and I’ve got a lot to do before they get here.

During my yard cleanup, I actually dragged something additional into the yard.  Back behind the woodshed in the brush was an old trailer with a wooden box built on it.  One of the tires was flat and the frame of the trailer is not square, but I pulled the trailer out into the open hoping to find a use for it.  The wood of the box is largely rotten and covered in moss, but other than not being square, the trailer is in good shape and when Amy asked if I wanted some chickens, I realized what I could do with the trailer.

I’ve taken care of chickens for friends, and they are not a lot of work.  My biggest concern out here is that I am just going to be providing a free meal or four for some predator.  Bears, foxes, coyotes, eagles, raccoons, and owls are just some of the predators that could cause me problems.  But the chickens will be farm animals, not pets, and if they get eaten, then I will move on with my life.  I’ll do my best to provide them with food, water and shelter, but am not going to worry too much about them.

The first thing I’m going to do is to build a fenced in and roofed run for the chicks.  They will only be about a month old when I get them from another local couple, and to buy myself some time, the run will be where they spend their days, and the wood shed is where they will sleep.  I figure since they won’t be laying eggs anytime soon, I’ll have a week or two after I get them to finish up the coop.

I’ve never built a coop before but have seen enough of them to have a good idea of what I want.  That old trailer will make them safe, warm, dry, and mobile.  Since the coop will be on wheels, I can move it as often as I want.  I’m not sure what I’m going to do this winter, as it will be hard for me to keep them warm.  Hay bales and hot rocks might get them through, but if not, I’ll put them out of their misery.  I’m looking forward to fresh eggs and the chickens eating lots of bugs.  I just hope that they don’t get eaten before I get a chance to eat them myself.

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Cabin Life – #75

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Well, I woke up to pouring rain this morning.  It’s really coming down, to the Apple Blossomspoint where my alarm didn’t wake me up, the pounding of the rain on the tin shed roof did.  All the windows are even closed due to the cold temperatures, and the rain was still loud enough to break my slumber.  But at least it wasn’t snow coming down like this.  The forecast has called for a chance of snow for the next few days, and while it wouldn’t be a major inconvenience to get some snow, it would be a little depressing.  Plus, I’m worried about the apple trees.

Last spring when the warmth came early and was followed by a month of cold, all my apple blossoms were killed.  In October, I found a whopping grand total of seven or eight apples.  These meager offerings were spread out amongst almost twenty trees, and not a single one was edible.  I only found one apple that wasn’t obviously bad, but when I bit into it, there was no sweetness or crunch.  Just mush and blandness.

Last week, the apple trees really started to go crazy.  After some unseasonably hot and dry conditions, spring sort of normalled out for a few weeks and gave us warm days, cool nights, and plenty of rain.  Actually, up until the snow storm warnings, it’s been nice weather, and the plants are definitely noticing it.  I got no apples, blueberries or raspberries last year due to the drought.  The apple trees are white with flowers and the light green blossoms of the blueberry bushes are starting to emerge.

But now I’m worried about losing the entire apple crop yet again.  I’ve only been able to taste a few of the apples out here, but a lot of these trees bear very different fruit than you find in the supermarket.  Some were dull pink on the inside and others were bitter but smelled magnificent.  I’m looking forward to seeing the whole range of non-homogenized fruit that they’ll produce.

But if we get more stupid snow tonight, I’m afraid the blossoms will go un-pollinated or freeze altogether, and I’ll be left with a weak and pathetic harvest.  There are a few trees that haven’t bloomed yet, and I’m beginning to feel like those might be my safety backup supply.  Hopefully they won’t be the only ones I get.

When I moved in to the cabin a couple of falls ago, the apples were a little too far gone to be of much use, and I had a lot of other things to accomplish that were more important that eating apples.  I was excited with the variety but not prepared to take advantage of it.  Now it just seems like a cruel hoax.  I got that sweet first taste, and then they were taken from me without permission.  I hope that last year was payment enough for them to come through this year.

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