Monday, January 6, 2014: Some January 6th in Illinois may have been colder than January 6, 2014. It most likely was, given how long the earth has been around, which scientists armed with radiometric age dating gadgets say is 4.54 billion years old plus or minus .05 billion years. Fundamental Christian theologians armed with bibles they believe are divinely inspired and literally true say the earth is 6,244 years old. The bible centered folks don’t go much for plus or minus as a concept. As you can see there is a whole lot of difference between those two estimates. But neither of them matter particularly in this discussion given that we’ve only been keeping accurate and organized records of daily air temperature for 120 years or so. That is a drop in a bucket geologically. Hardly a drop even. For the very short record the coldest temperature in Illinois since they’ve been keeping records was recorded in Congerville in 1999 when it was -36. Nice little town, Congerville. It’s close to Danvers and Goodfield, in case you can’t place it.
So to be accurate January 6th has not been this cold since they have been keeping records. It was pretty cold in 1970, 44 years ago, but not this cold. On that day it was -12. I’m sure that was one of the nights I toted the car battery from my 63 Ford Galaxy V-8 into our college apartment by the railroad tracks on Hovey Avenue in Normal, Illinois so I might have a chance at starting my car in the morning. Today it is --17 and still going down. And there’s that wind to deal with. I have been burning wood like a bastard in the shack since 6:30 a.m. and have only gotten the inside temperature up to 51 degrees. Snow, tracked in hours earlier, is still not melting on the floor.
Speaking of snow I ignored it as long as I could. From the time it started piling up on Saturday night till Sunday night about 9:00 p.m. I simply walked through it. Then I realized if my daughter and her boyfriend were going to get their car off my driveway and back to Chicago we would have to shovel it. We made a skinny path to the street that I later widened. Glad they were here to help me.
Tuesday, January 7, 2014: It’s pretty gorgeous this morning. We have ten inches of snow, at least, maybe a foot. It is piled on the tops of the bare deciduous tree limbs, not melting, pure white against the dark bark. Our neighborhood has pines, behind me a blue spruce and a balsam, some others I can’t identify through the ravine. Snow packs the needles and weighs them down, making their green more striking and their shape more stately. The sky is clear and the sun bright. I filled the feeder with black oil sunflower seeds and the birds are mobbing it. Must be the only food around. The cardinals are out in force, along with the blue jays and wood peckers. I don’t know how they make it, or where they go at night. But it’s good to see them.
It’s quiet out here. Schools are closed, along with lots of businesses, and there is little traffic. Salt won’t melt ice when it’s this cold. Caton Road, the street in front of my house, is snow packed and almost polished slick. I got the Buick out and went to the store, looking to buy some salmon. The fish case was empty. Truck didn’t come in they said. No hamburger either. I settled on a nice skirt steak and we made fajitas, heavy on the peppers and onions, served with rice, beans and tortillas. The Mexican market on Madison was open and we got some good chorizo to flavor everything up. We stopped at Herman’s, our favorite liquor store, to stock up on provisions there as well. In this weather you can’t be too careful. The roads could drift shut at any time and then where would you be?
I went to church to clear the sidewalks and steps. My friend Steve Malinsky and I worked together. I ran the snow blower and he scooped. I love running the snow blower. I pretend I’m back on the farm driving the tractor. The church’s snow blower is a powerful beast that walked through that deep snow like it was nothing.
It was still below zero and during the forty five minutes or so we worked I got cold. I was wearing leather “chopper” mittens with thick wool inserts made in Bemidji, Minnesota. I thought my fingers would never get cold in those things but they did. My feel stayed pretty warm, with thick wool socks, my regular shoes and five buckle rubber boots. However, my moustache froze stiff. It was hard to smile. When we finished Steve and I stood in the alley and talked a while, but not long. Sub zero temperature limits outdoor conversations.
Wednesday January 8, 2014: I’m going through a lot of wood. I came out early, about 6:00 a.m., which is an hour and a half before sunrise. As I started a fire in the stove and estimated the wood supply that remained in the stack below the stove I figured I’d be good until 9:00 or so. But just as the sun was rising, close to 7:30, I was back outside at the wood pile filling a bucket and a milk crate with more wood. The cold just doesn’t let up. I have both pine and oak in my wood pile. The oak burns hotter. I keep the air intake wide open so the stove really cooks.
I’m doing some different writing this week. I’m part of a group, I Care International, which is going to Trujillo, Honduras in February to conduct eye exams, dispense glasses, and do cataract and other eye surgeries. Forty five volunteers will donate their time and pay their own expenses to make the ten day trip. This year we’re having trouble getting donations of supplies. We need eye drops like artificial tears and diabetic testing stuff; the little finger prickers called lancets and the test strips you put in the monitors. Companies seem to have tightened up on donations. Bill, my friend in Chicago, has a contact at a big retail drug store and we’re putting together a short proposal for their foundation. My job is to briefly summarize the history, purpose, and mission of the organization. I’m writing a one pager to go on top of his more specific proposal. I Care International has been around for 25 years and conducted 71 such missions. It’s hard to capture that on one page.
My other job this week is to write no more than five hundred words on child abuse for an annual report by a statewide outfit on the statistical state of the state for children. They want short narratives preceding each section of numbers. It’s harder for me to write 500 words than it is to write 2,000. Heck I’m at 1,156 right now and what have I said exactly? So that’s what I’m doing out here. Burning wood, writing, and listening to music. I listen to music without words when I write because lyrics are distracting. I’ve got Chopin on right now. I’m glad I’ve gotten to know that guy. I might write a review of his stuff one day as an update.
I’m looking forward to choir practice. We haven’t sung since Christmas Eve and I miss both my choir friends and just plain singing.
Thursday, January 9, 2014: They’re talking about it warming up and snowing again. I really have too much to do to shovel more snow. In addition to the I Care proposal and the 500 word deal for the statewide outfit I have to write the weekly piece for my blog. I thought one of the other pieces I was writing this week might serve as an update but I’m not sure they do. So I’ll crank out one more. It will be nice to get back to the normal and the novel. It’s been quite a week.
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