Busted

This sopping wet floor greeted me after pipes froze upstairs under the kitchen sink, courtesy of the Polar Vortex, Round One. Pretty sure I caught it soon enough to avoid serious injury to the Ikea cabinets or bamboo floors, but the drywall ceiling Chris was in the middle of mudding might require some repair or a do-over.

Last year, winter was forever long but mostly mild, and it didn’t occur to me that I needed to do anything other than keep the heat turned on. But the thermostat is in a geothermal underground bunker, and apparently it gets a helluva lot colder upstairs with all those windows.

This year's Winter Cabinology Lesson: Turn off the water main, open the upstairs pipes, flush the toilet.

My friend, Paul, a builder-handyman, was with me when we discovered the frozen pipes (which actually are plastic tubes) on what turned into a frustratingly unfruitful trip. We had planned to start working on the shower pan, but we ran into problems there, too. Paul dug 2 feet under the floor and still didn’t find the drain, which meant I needed to call a plumber -- or worse, track down the builder.

Paul surveyed the damage to my kitchen faucet, reflected on our lost day and offered up a bit of pidgin Nigerian wisdom: “Na condition make crayfish bend,” he said.

Life’s difficulties piled on us this day. What can we do but accept it?

Snow tracks

A query from the Three Dog Blogger about the animals we’ve seen at Loveless sent me rummaging through drawers for this card (which I bought more than 20 years ago and intended to frame), first published in 1897 in St. Nicholas Magazine.

What I’ve seen most in the flesh (and recognize their snow tracks) are rabbit, squirrel and my neighbors’ dogs. I’ve seen deer tracks, but only spied one once, two summers ago, walking along the far shoreline.

Last fall I saw a gang of a dozen or so wild turkeys scooting single file through the middle of my hill parallel to shore. My neighbor Scott, a year-round resident for decades, said he’d never seen wild turkeys so near to the water, which made it a double-cool sighting. He was the one who researched the proper way to identify a group of turkeys as a “gang.”

The most exciting discovery by far was the distinct bear paw we spied in the mud one spring, fairly close to the road. Lane Burke, my gone-too-soon Loveless Laker friend, told me he saw a bear on our side of the lake during one of his morning walks, so I know we weren’t making up tall tales.

I’ve also seen raccoon scat, but not yet a live one, though it’s inevitable. For reasons unknown, the St. Nicholas card gives the humble ’coon the most real estate of any of the critters, devoting three columns to its various gaits: a “slow jumbing gate (cq),” “slow walk” and “fast trot.”

With such distinctive features, I’m rather inspired to take a closer look.

Polar Vortex

We awoke to negative single digits this morn and temps aren't set to rise above zero until Wednesday – four days of crazy cold not seen in these parts for more than 100 years. At times like these, we just hunker into survival mode. Heck, even the Packers lost today -- at Lambeau Field.

A bathroom is on the docket for the New Year at Loveless, though I have learned that priorities here are fungible. They become freely interchangeable depending on what’s broken (or leaking water) at the moment, what the building inspector/insurance agent has to say at the moment, how many better-paying jobs Chris has at the moment, and the ever-present factors of how much time or money we have at the moment.

I’m setting a goal of “springtime” for having a shower and running water. And I’ve preserved my perfect record of driving Chris crazy by starting to assemble the next project before he's had a chance to finish the current one.

Thus, the tile, vanity and shower fixtures are stacked up on the job site and ready to go...

Two hundred pounds of heavenly joy.

... as soon as that drywall project gets done.

 

The newest member of the 90 Percent Club.

Snowy, dusty Christmas

The downstairs drywall project is rounding the home stretch, though Chris might insert “never ending” in there somewhere. What a messy, dusty, and seriously unrelenting job.

Chipper and I avoided the dust and camped out upstairs on the new weeHouse sofas on our last visit, which coincided with the two-year anniversary of the landing of the beautiful pre-fab on Dec. 22.

We arrived to at least a foot of fresh snow, which I love, because it’s so easy to see the footprints of all the critters passing through. 

Summers at Loveless are full of energy and color. But I'm finding I relish the stillness of winter -- especially when sipping a cup of coffee inside the toasty weeHouse!

Numb and number

I lifted that headline from meteorologist Paul Douglas, who says we’re off to the coldest start to December since 1996. And we Minnesotans/Wisconsinites are in a foul mood because of it. This week Mr. Douglas' forecast made references both to “arctic sun” and “Siberian sun.” Perhaps a reminder that even though sunlight is scant as we approach winter Solstice, we should show a little appreciation for the heavenly orb. Sunrise at Loveless today: 7:41 a.m.; sunset: 4:27 p.m.

One of my most clever colleagues wrote on Facebook today: This is my last winter in Minnesota.*

Ice in!

Even in these northern climes, it’s rare to see a lake that’s ready to skate on without the aid of a Zamboni, water hose or some other form of human intervention. Usually it snows, which wrecks the ice for skating. But we scored one of those precious occurrences at Loveless Lake this year, and Chris and I did not let it go unenjoyed.

After living here nearly 24 years now (how did that happen?), I hope to never lose that thrill of skating on a frozen lake. I’m still an arm-flailing novice, as I seem to manage just a couple of outings each season. But my motto is this: As long as it’s cold, let’s play. And what a great playmate I’ve got with Chris.

Ever the hockey player. (The weeHouse project is straight up.)

Practicing pirouettes.

Lounge time

It’s not quite Better Homes & Gardens, but we’ve now got a couple of sofas to lounge on, thanks to the strong arms of pal Nora and the enthusiasm of her faithful hound, Emma. 

Nora’s what you might call a nesting goddess. She loves this kind of stuff. Rubs her hands together, gets a glint in her eye and starts cooing over all the creative options at hand. That’s good news for me, as I tend to get overwhelmed with all the home décor choices (and price tags), and then fall into a funk because I’m certain I’ve irretrievably screwed things up.

The three of us piled into the truck for a recent Loveless daytrip, assembled the Target BluDots and had a weeHouse picnic before heading into St. Croix Falls to check out an art show. Not bad for a day’s work.