Author photo

By Vicki Sternfeld-Rossi
The Times 

Whoa, baby it's cold outside (and I had the frozen pipes to prove it)

 

January 12, 2023

Lane Gwinn Graphic

To quote the late Yogi Berra: It's like déjà vu all over again. We were diligent this winter, determined not to repeat last winter's frozen kitchen and bathroom pipes. We were aggressive with keeping water moving, heating the house, and keeping cabinet doors open. We did it all.

We didn't wait for the temperature to drop into the teens but started preventative measures at above-freezing. Still, our hot water pipes in the bathroom froze by day three of our recent cold blast. Cold shower anyone?

Thankfully, the "little house" (known as Daniel's man cave) had hot water, so we could still shower.

It was as frustrating this year. We followed everyone's advice on winterizing. Constantly eyeing the dropping temperatures and streaming, not dripping, water from every sink, bathtub, and shower faucet. Yet here we were again, running outside in our robes and towels through the snow to shower.

Single-digit days were tough on Mugsy as well. It was difficult and guilt-inducing to watch his distress. He hates coats, sweaters, or anything that might keep him warm. Taking him for a walk was a chilling affair. His paws stuck to the ice and nearly froze in place as he relieved himself. He was ecstatic after the freeze broke, racing out to the yard without falling into the icy snow.

As I wrote this, I watched the news about all the weather issues plaguing the country and the hardships it's caused so many. People were stranded at airports, their luggage lost, and no answers on how to get where they were going. It made me feel guilty about my whining when my luggage was lost for one day during our trip.

Another embarrassment was my complaints about the few inches of snow we got in town because I didn't feel comfortable driving to play tennis on icy roads. Of course, our few inches of snow were mild compared to the devastating blizzard on the East Coast. We saw cars piled up and people stranded while bracing for floods as the weather warmed. Difficult to fathom anytime, but heart-wrenching during the holidays.

Even after all the bad news, I am optimistic about my garden for this Spring. I am ready. Today, I received my seed order in the mail. It must have been a cold and dark day when I placed this ambitious order because I now have enough seeds to last a lifetime. I would need another yard to plant them all, though gifting seeds to my friends and neighbors is a more practical solution.

There are ten types of lettuce, colossal asparagus, which requires patience I don't have, lemongrass, radishes, unusual tomatoes, and cabbage for a foolproof start.

I start a new garden journal every year, and I swear I will keep it up. But two weeks later, it's forgotten. With good intentions but not great execution. Somehow, the Waitsburg terroir (dirt) has been forgiving, and we always have homegrown produce.

 

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