Need a Plan B

The wood shed path is buried.

It’s finally “warmed up” to -15C! The wind has subsided after several consecutive days of Arctic temperatures and drifting snow. The sun was out in full force – great! But, thanks to days of gusting winds, deep snowdrifts engulfed the paths to the wood piles – not so great. We’ve used nearly three full cords of wood so far this winter and the wood shed is practically bare.

The second wood pile of two cords closer to the house is stacked like a pyramid, pretty much how the truck dumped it on the driveway. I’ve been told by seasoned country folk that if you can’t stack wood in rows, then it’s best to leave it stacked like a pyramid. It’s a good thing that we have that second wood pile. Before building our woodshed last summer, I researched online about stacking and storing wood; everyone had an opinion, of course. I asked neighbors and regulars at the coffee shop/laundromat we frequent in a nearby town.

Everyone had a preferred method of storing and stacking wood. Since this is our first winter using a wood stove, we considered all of the advice and came up with a plan of our own.

Uncovering the second wood pile.

While the wind was whipping the snow into a frenzy a few days ago, getting to and from the wood shed was nearly impossible. I tried, but some of the snow drifts were thigh-deep. Maybe it wasn’t such a good idea to have the woodshed so far from the house. After putting on the roof this summer, we’ll have to come up with a Plan B to store some wood closer to the house, maybe a wood closet on the main floor.

It took awhile to dig through half a foot of snow to uncover the second pile. To my amazement, the wood pieces were only lightly frosted and pretty light. I thought they’d be frozen solid. For more than a week, I’ve been hauling wood from the second pile simply because it’s more accessible than the wood shed. But, today given the “warmer” temperature, I decided to tackle the snow head-on and shovel a path to the woodshed. It didn’t look that deep. If pioneers managed to survive winters with basic tools, surely I could shovel a narrow path. However, as I soon discovered, it was an ambitious plan destined to fail.

There was a four-inch thick layer of hard packed snow and underneath that crust the white stuff was either knee-deep or thigh-deep. Although I managed to shovel about three feet of white stuff, I realized that this would be no easy task. That piddly accomplishment took an hour-and-a-half! It was futile. There was no way I could shovel a path to the woodshed without causing myself a lot of physical pain; I was already drenched in sweat and my heart was racing.

Admitting defeat, I carried two empty wood carrying totes by the handles and slowly trudged through the thick, deep white stuff wishing I’d bought a discounted plastic kids’ sled at Canadian Tire last week. It would have come in handy today. I lost my balance several times and ended up on my backside. The top laces on my Sorel boots came undone and snow packed inside the liners. Even my skidoo mitts somehow got blobs of snow inside them. I was not enjoying this outdoor experience.

After filling up the totes, I retraced my steps and dragged each tote by the handle behind me, stumbling and cursing as more snow filled my boots. Then the inevitable happened – face-plant! It was turning out to be one of those days. I had been outside for nearly three hours, accomplished very little and was now lying on my stomach, face covered in snow. Great. I managed to right myself and then sat on one of the wood filled totes, wiping melting snow from my nose and cheeks. The snow was past my knees, inside and outside of my boots. My socks were soaking up the cold, melted liquid. Perspiration from several hours of shoveling and trudging was giving me the chills. I had to get into some dry clothes. It was time to admit defeat. The thick mitts were glued to my hands thanks to sweat and blobs of snow that probably made their way inside while I braced myself during the face-plant.

“Get up, get the wood inside and call it a day,” I told myself, envisioning a large steaming mug of hot chocolate with a generous shot of Amarula (a cream liqueur from South Africa). That would warm me up. I was motivated again.

After peeling off soaked winter gear and clothes, I huddled by the wood stove with a steaming mug of spiked hot chocolate disappointed I didn’t accomplish more today. Some days, achieving ambitious goals is unrealistic. Some days, just getting to and from the wood pile is enough.

For the birds

Female redpoll

The Polar Vortex has returned with a vengeance. These days when we say the temperature will “warm up” to -20C overnight I think it’s supposed to be a slight reassurance that maybe the car will start tomorrow without needing to plug it in. If you don’t know what a block heater is, then consider yourself lucky. My car normally doesn’t need to be plugged in when the temperature is “warmer” than -25C. Our small truck that doesn’t have a block heater has had some issues this winter, though.

Up here in the Great White North if we don’t plug our vehicles in when the mercury plummets into the -20s, -30s, -40s and -50s (a new record was set in December), then we’re not going anywhere until the temperature “warms up”. We’ve had a few days like that in December and January. In the boonies, when the vehicles won’t start, there is no Plan B; we simply stay home. All the more reason to ensure we’re well stocked with food and supplies.

I haven’t seen any White-tailed deer around for nearly two weeks. Even the does I’ve dubbed “the three amigas” haven’t made an appearance; there are no hoof prints anywhere. It’s a miracle that any animal can survive these inhospitable conditions.

Male (red)  and female Grosbeak

I’ve been concerned about the wild birds; how can they possibly survive this Arctic-like climate? Normally at this time of year, I’m sitting on a bench bundled up in layers of warm clothing taking pictures of them at the feeders. But, it’s been too darned cold to stay outside for more than 10 minutes unless I’m hauling wood or snow shoveling (the snow blower has gone on strike).

Hoping that the temperatures would improve soon, I made some birdseed cakes, filled the feeders with nyjer seed (for the finches and other small song birds), leftover stale whole wheat bread and black oil sunflower seeds. The black oil seeds have soft shells that are easy for birds to open and the seeds give the birds much-needed energy, especially at this time of year.
 

Chickadees love sunflower seeds.

It didn’t take long for the chickadees to hone in on the tasty treats, followed by grosbeaks, woodpeckers, redpolls, blue jays and gray jays. I haven’t seen any finches or nut hatches yet. I look forward to checking out the feeders daily and hanging out with the birds.

Sometimes on a “warmer” day, I can hand-feed the chickadees and nuthatches. Four blue jays are out there now making a ruckus.

I guess that’s my cue to bring out more sunflower seeds. They’ve trained me very well!

Warm wood stove, warm heart

Warming by the wood stove with a mug of hot tea.

Five years ago, if someone would have told me that on January 21, 2014 I’d be outside at 7 am when it’s -35C fetching 120lbs of wood to feed a hungry indoor wood stove, or making cobbler with Saskatoon berries picked from our front yard last summer, or assembling ingredients to make crock pot chili that include home canned tomatoes grown in my garden and green peppers grown in my greenhouse, or watching a pair of bald eagles engaged in an aerial dance above my front yard, I would have responded, “Yeah, right. You’re delusional.”

About this time five years ago, I had recently returned from a month-long vacation in the Caribbean and was dreading at least two more months of snow, frigid temperatures and shoveling. I was already planning my next vacation. I couldn’t wait to escape the city’s monotonous drama to pursue sun, sand and Cuba Libres. This morning, I donned long underwear beneath my sweatpants and sweater, a heavy toque, face mask and Sorrel boots, then trudged through knee-deep snow carrying wood from the shed downstairs to keep the wood stove happy. And, believe it or not, I did all of this without wishing I were somewhere else.

I took time off from this blog to re-focus and figure out what I’m trying to accomplish here, not just in cyberspace, but generally in life. I turned 45 this month. When I was a kid, 45 year olds seemed, well, pretty old. I don’t feel old, though. While some may call this reflection and re-focus a mid-life crisis, I call it a personal reinvention, a sequel. Change can be scary for some people, but I think change sparks adventures and more opportunities to explore and learn.  Being a cog in the wheel isn’t for me; I want to do more, learn more, be more.

This past December, we endured record setting temperatures while an Arctic Vortex descended on the region. I now know what -51C feels like. It’s damned cold! Although the gas guzzlers’ batteries were frozen solid and we couldn’t go anywhere even if we wanted to, the wood stove was hungry and the beast needed to be fed regularly. We hauled in enough wood to last us three days.

My daily routine includes bringing in several bucket loads of logs to keep the stove burning hot so the propane furnace doesn’t need to kick in very often. Before bedtime, the thermostat is turned down to 59C. I know that sounds cold and, yes, it’s a bit chilly after emerging from a blissfully warm bed, but the goal is to reduce our reliance on propane.

The wood stove we had installed last spring is earning its keep. The propane tank will need to be filled next month at a cost about $900. That sounds outrageous, but considering we’ve had two frigid winters in a row and the last time we filled the tank was last February, we’re doing OK. I’ve heard from neighbors that they fill their propane or oil tanks practically every month. Yikes!

We’ll probably have a wood stove installed upstairs this spring. It makes sense to mainly rely on wood heat, given our normally long, cold winters. We have acres of trees for our fuel. If the electricity goes out (which happens occasionally) we’ll still have heat and cooking mediums. The lights did flicker a few times during the December Arctic Vortex. In hindsight, given -51C, followed by days of -40s, I’m surprised that there weren’t widespread power outages in the region. We were spared ice storms that crippled parts of Toronto and the East Coast.

Sturdy plastic grocery totes make good wood hauling containers

No worries at our end. If we get snowed in or the power goes out, our stove and oven are propane and the wood stove has a cast iron cook top. The pantry and freezer are always well-stocked and the emergency preparedness kits are always nearby, as well as a supply of potable water in case the power is out for an extended period of time. No power means the well pump won’t work. But, despite that issue, we’re golden to withstand brief power outages.

It’s important to have backup plans when you live in the sticks. A wood stove upstairs will be a welcomed addition to my growing culinary skills. I look forward to watching the coffee percolator brew its magic on the cast iron stove top while I whip up an omelet or pancakes in a cast iron pan. I have cooked on the stove downstairs, but it’s a pain lugging ingredients, pots, pans and dishes up and down the stairs.

I do like being down here, warming up beside the wood stove after hauling yet another load of wood, a hot mug of tea with grated ginger and honey fogging my glasses. So much has changed. Five years ago, I dreamed of living somewhere far away. Today, I’d rather be nowhere else but home.