Yet Another Lesson

Today, class, we are going to discuss septic system maintenance. Lest you think that septic systems require no maintenance save the "every 3-5 years" pumping out . . . well, you are just wrong. At least regarding modern, safe, "legal" septic tanks.


Here we are, watching the system here at Swamp River Ridge being installed back in July of '06. That was only 2 months before we moved in, so I guess our theory of it not working because it sat stagnant with very little use for a couple of years is not correct!

We never had any problems with the septic tank at our first little house. Why? Because it had been installed back in the 70s when you could get away with a massive amount of polluting atrocities. Back then, there was no filter at the outlet leading to the drain field. And, there was always a good "draw" in the drain field. Why? Because it emptied right into a small stream that ran under the road and right into Lake Superior! Good for our septic system, BAAAAAAD (and really disgustingly gross) for the crown jewel of northeastern Minnesota!

Now, though, systems are located properly (AWAY from watersheds!), and the bane of the septic system installer is The Filter.


At the point where the liquid leaves the holding tank and empties into the drainfield (leaving the sludge in the tank to be pumped out at intervals), there is now a (mandatory) filter. (See above photo, taken back on Valentine's Day [nice] of '07 when the system froze due to lack of insulation, i.e. snow. Inside that vertical PVC tube is the filter.)

The reason for the filter is to ensure that no solids get into the drainfield - both for sanitary reasons & to prevent potential blockage. It's a good idea, but the technology has yet to catch up to the theory. See, these filters have two nasty drawbacks. #1, they have a tendency to refuse to lock in place, thereby popping up and causing a jam at the outflow point (which, in turns, backs up your system). #2, they clog up with solids really easily (which also backs up your system).

The latter is what we believe happened to us this time. Some people, up here in the Land of Septic Systems (vs. city sewer), don't even put toilet paper down their toilets! They've had too much experience with the paper not breaking down properly and thereby plugging the tank. One of my dear friends has a covered pail sitting next to both toilets in their 4-person house. And, each day, the contents are incinerated. Voila! No septic issues.

Besides the tales of blocked filters, we've also heard of another - perhaps the bigger - injustice done to septic systems these days. Are you ready? Dum, dum, dummmmm . . . (drumroll, please) . . . SOFT, THICK TOILET PAPER!

It doesn't take a rocket scientist to figure out that thicker TP degrades and breaks down MUCH more slowly than a thin, preferably recycled TP would.

And, if you stop and take time to think about it, toilet paper has been getting thicker and softer and "more quilted" through the years. The last batch we purchased was more like FABRIC than paper! And, while this may make sensitive-bummed folks happy, it AIN'T good for your septic system. Besides, I learned a while ago that the really thick, luxurious stuff uses a long-strand wood fiber than can be found only in OLD-GROWTH trees! So, you're doin' bad by the environment by using that stuff, too.

So, where does this leave us?

Well, about a month ago, when I started smelling sewer gas coming up the drain each time the washing machine emptied, it should have set off an alarm. When I started smelling sewer gas when I was walking near the tank a week or so ago, it should have set off an alarm. And, it did, but I passed it off with, "Oh, I must be paranoid. We just had the tank pumped last year - it CAN'T be that again!"

If I had mentioned these things to Tom, he would have told me that he smelled it just yesterday when he was outside but thought he was imagining things, too. We would have put two and two together and . . . popped the tops on the tank to see what was going on. But, we didn't.

So, our lesson learned is this: we're going to use only thinner, more biodegradable TP from now on, and we're going to make cleaning out the septic tank filter a regular, extremely unpleasant habit. (Oh, yes - you have to reach your arm DOWN INTO that PVC pipe to extract the filter!!) Hopefully, by adhering to these new Septic System Rules, we can eliminate (ha! pun not intended!) future problems. Keep your legs crossed* for us.

* Pun fully intended. ;)

A Moment of Social Consciousness

Okay, Thanksgiving is still 80 days away (thank goodness, no pun intended), but the PROCESSING of your Thanksgiving turkey is well under way.

Now, I'll bet that when you think of the tom that's going to end up on the dining room table all plump and juicy - waiting for Dad or Grandpa to carve - you think of something like this:
















Or this:














But, if you buy a commercially-raised name-brand turkey for your Thanksgiving table this year, you'll be getting one of these.


















Or these.











Appetizing, huh? Makes you want to skip right to the pumpkin pie, doesn't it?

Now, I'm not trying to go all PETA on you, but I WOULD encourage you to think about the way the turkey you buy has been raised, fed, and housed. You don't even have to care about the welfare of the poultry. Think about what you're putting in your stomach. Which of these turkeys looks healthiest to you? Doesn't it naturally follow then that you'd want the healthiest food to go down your gullet?

Editorial Comments: When we were in northwestern MN this past week we happened upon this turkey processing plant where these (and many other) turkeys were waiting in the 84 degree heat (okay, they WERE parked in the shade) to be butchered. Just consider this my little way of spreading Social Consciousness regarding the way(s) that mass-produced food makes its way to our tables. ;)

12 April 2006

When I talk about driving the scenic "back way" as soon as the road opens in the springtime . . . well, this is what happened last year when I tried it (a little too early)! There was this one protected and shaded spot - more than halfway home - that was still quite snowy. I figured that if I gunned in, I could make it through the stretch to the clear road and gravel beyond. A mere 20 feet from the aforementioned clear road and gravel, I knew I had figured wrong.

Fortunately, it was a gorgeous, warm day. Unfortunately, I had already taken the shovel out of the car for the year (I've since learned my lesson regarding that particular "don't-rush-it" item). But, I did happen to have a five-gallon pail and lid with me, so I used the lid to shovel. Between that and shoving dried weeds and grasses I pulled up from the side of the road underneath the tires, I got myself out of the jamb in about an hour. Once I was able to drive out of it, I stopped to take this Learning Experience picture.

(P.S. Tom was traveling for work when this happened, and no one knew where I was. Yet another "don't try this at home" moment. You'd think I'd learn one of these days . . . !)

Final Post of Final Installment

February 15th promised to be a better day than Valentine's Day had been.

The #1 Septic Guy and our wonderful friend and septic system installer were working together on this puzzling situation. Our friend promised to come out with the septic guy if he at all could . . . but he and his wife had to put their 16-year old sweet dog down that day. Telling him that I would love to see him just for the visit, I stressed that our concerns were NOTHING compared to his that day . . . and to give our problem not another thought. (Jumping ahead, he never did make it out, but I spoke to him that night, and their Basset is now at peace . . . and, blessedly, so are they.)

After a day full of more emergencies (for him), #1 Septic Guy arrived about 4:00 that afternoon. We shoveled off the septic tank (do you see a pattern here?). We unscrewed the lid. He had to drill the screws out whose heads I had stripped. The tank was, happily, still thawed. The input pipe was still, happily again, open. But, the clean-out was still full - now with a nice layer of ice on top.

Bottom line, we finally got the blockage free. We steamed. We cleaned. We steamed from this end. We cleaned from that end. Then we repeated. Twice. At first, there were fears that the pipe had, indeed, heaved and cracked. But then, we realized that what we were afraid was dirt from the ground was part of the blockage. Basically, what we figured happened was this: because #2 Septic Guy only steamed the line from one end, we think that only a small hole was made in the frozen blockage. Big enough to let through enough water, initially, to make the system seem fixed. But small enough to freeze / block right up again.

With confidence riding hesitantly medium to high, #1 Septic Guy left me with strict instructions and plans to call him that night for a system check.

The strict instructions went like this: use all the hot water you can. When you flush the toilet, flush it multiple times. Use the facilities as often as you can. And, again, USE AS MUCH HOT WATER AS YOU POSSIBLY CAN!

Follow-up learning goes like this: when a septic system is brand new, it takes some months of regular use to build up the bacteria and organisms that keep it - literally - hot and, therefor, free-flowing. When you begin using a septic system as late in the year as September 15th . . . and don't use ANY hot water because you have no sinks, tubs, or showers installed . . . troubles are more likely than not to ensue. Top that off with minimal precipitation of insulating snow that keeps the frost from working its way deeper into the ground (past and around your septic line leading from the house), and you have an even better recipe for troubles. Then, there are little things like the fact that low-flush toilets, while environmentally "clean", don't provide enough water for toilet paper, etc. to make it all the way out to the tank. Instead, the matter is sitting part-way down the line. Hence the extra flushing required to eliminate blockage.

Now, two weeks later, the system remains in perfect working order although I haven't stopped knock, knock, knocking on wood! I wouldn't let Tom take the antique commode out of the house for quite a few days for fear that that would jinx things. I make sure that I do a load of laundry every day (HOT water), and we flush the toilets each time we walk past them. Moderate temperatures (in the 20s) and new snowfall have helped.

The water lines are now cleared out, and the shower (expertly lined with plastic) is in daily use. Being able to - after 5 1/2 months of living here - take showers makes the other challenges and inconveniences SO much more bearable. We have gained 1/2 hour of sleep in the morning because Tom no longer has to take his clothes on hangers to the work-out room showers at the community center.

Life is GOOD, and we have made it through yet another first-year-in-the-new-house learning experience. Let's hope it's the last time we have to wade through this particular one!

End of story! :)

Final Installation of Valentine's Day (Week!) Saga

Okay, I'm going to finish this story if it kills me!

With cold temperatures prevailing, Tom gone on a business trip, and the plumber and #2 Septic Guy gone, I sat down with a hefty Whiskey-7 that night to process the emotional ups and downs of the past 48 - 72 hours.

Once the concoction had done its soothing magic and I had alerted all the appropriate people to the happy news ("All systems GO!"), I toddled upstairs to run the bath. I was definitely eager to take the first shower, but there was no point in doing so in that filthy water that had been sitting in the water lines for months. So, I would simply run the water in the tub, clean out the lines, let the water heater re-heat, and then take a shower. I had a plan! So, drain at the bottom of the tub open and both hot and cold faucets wide open with glorious water gushing out, I headed back downstairs.

Listening to water rushing through the waste pipes of the unfinished house (what a happy sound!), I putter-putzed. Then, I heard a gurgling in the downstairs toilet. A quick look showed air bubbles popping up into the bowl. "Hmm, that's weird. Must have something to do with the new, unused water lines and waste pipes working air out."

I continue on with my putter-putzing.

Then, suddenly, I hear a horrible, massive PSSSSSHHHHTTT followed by the running water sound of a babbling brook . . . INSIDE THE HOUSE!! I tore into the downstairs bathroom again, and the unfinished drain of the shower had a TORRENT of waste water (oh, yes) pulsing up out of it and flooding the bathroom.

I FLEW up the stairs, and dropped the drain in the new tub and shut off the water.

WHAT THE ----?!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

With the dogs excitedly at my heels and hammer in hand, I ran outside to the septic clean-out and ripped the top off. It was full to overflowing again. AGAIN! In the 4 hours (tops!) since the septic guy had cleaned out the pipes, it was newly frozen.

I was exhausted. I was done. I was emotionally spent. I couldn't even cry.

After I cleaned up the bathroom, I dressed to face the outside temperatures, and, with tools, flashlight, and headlamp in hand, headed out to the septic tank for the second time that day. Only this time it was pitch dark at 8:30 at night.

I shoveled the insulating snow back off the septic tank. I rummaged through the garage to find the right sized bit to unscrew the 2' wide lid from the tank. The incoming line from the house was still, this time, thawed and open. "Well, that's good, but where's it frozen?!" I go back to the clean-out. Yep, still full to the top.

Investigating all that I know to do, I made a late night phone call to #1 Septic Guy. He is floored. Baffled. He's apologetic that he couldn't make it out that afternoon and had to send his 2nd-In-Command. But, that guy's trust-worthy. So, what's happened? He says that he'll call #2 Septic Guy and then call me right back. #2 Septic Guy says he got it running free and clear. I agree - I was right there helping him. #1 Septic Guy says that he's going to make his own late-night call to the septic system installer. Could a pipe have heaved and broken in half? He'll call me right back.

Ultimately, I end up having to search our 40 acres for one of summertime's garden hoses (I couldn't get ahold of Tom to find out where they were). But, fortunately, I was fairly confident that they would be one of two places . . . but both were covered by camouflaging snow. Latest Challenge #1: Successful.

However, the hose is frozen stiff, and the female end encased in ice. It has to come into the house to soften up, and the end needs to soak in hot water. Latest Challenge #2: Successful.

Now, at #1 Septic Guy's suggestion (who, ever the gentleman himself, is completely dismayed that my big, strong, strapping husband is gone and I need to do this myself), I attach one end of the now-warmed hose to hot water in the house. The other end is shoved - through the waste water - down the appropriate T towards the septic tank of the clean-out. I am to shove it as far as I can. I do so. The theory is that the jamb will be cleared. Latest Challenge #3: Failed.

Fast forward to about 10:30 PM. I am exhausted (or did I already mention that?). I need a shower. (HA!) I have just finished many phone calls with my folks, the - no less than appalled and stymied - #1 Septic Guy, the plumber (on the off chance that the problem is inside the house), and a very concerned and sympathetic septic system installer. Everyone has offered to come out still that night, but I know how far out we live and what that would be to ask. There's no need. I've peed outside before - I can do it again. The lid is secured back on the septic tank (I didn't even tell you about all the screws I stripped in the cold) and the insulating snow shoveled back on. We will all attack things anew in the morning.

When Tom calls to check in that night I don't answer the phone. I couldn't tell him what I've been dealing with on Valentine's Day when there wasn't a single thing he could do about it except beat himself up for not being here.

Valentine's Day 2007

Soon, though, the water was running clear, and I was beginning to fantasize about my very first shower in our house!

The plumber - finished for the time-being - gathered up his tools and headed out. It was near 5:00, and the stressful day was finally OVER! The septic lines were open, and we had a fully functioning shower and tub. It felt so good that I couldn't quite believe it all!

So, until next time, I will leave you with this:

Strange how that 6th sense works, isn't it . . . ?

Wanna Take A Bath?!

So, like I said, the plumbing was working, and all systems were go. The plumber turned on the Roman tub faucet . . . and this is what came out! Appetizing, huh? Yep, I surely would want to jump right into a full tub o' that water!

See, what had happened is back when the well pump was installed in the summer, the (indoor plumbing) system had to be pressurized. And, since the water hadn't been run much after the well was freshly drilled, it was full of gunk from the drilling. So, when the system got pressurized, that water was the water that went into the pipes . . . and had been sitting there ever since. So, open the pipes, and out it comes! Yuck!

The Saga Continues . . . .

Okay, even I couldn't stand looking at that picture of septic sewage/sludge anymore, so - taking pity on you readers who are still bravely and boldly hanging on - I will do a quick continuation of the story before I pop off to bed. It is a "school night", after all.

So, #2 Septic Guy had come on Valentine's Day and cleared out the frozen septic line. All systems were go. And, it was just in time for the plumber to test the master bathroom toilet he'd installed and the master bathroom tub and shower.

The toilet flushed just exactly like it was supposed to, and the water ran in the tub.

Unfortunately (see next posted picture) . . . .

Valentine's Day 2007, Part IV

With me serving as his able-bodied assistant, #2 Septic Guy and I did what was required to get the line steamed out. 'Nuff said.

With all systems "GO" and huge gratitude in my heart, I thanked #2 Septic Guy over and over for his speediness and sent him on his way.

Hey! This means that the plumber can test the master bathroom toilet he installed and . . . THE SHOWER! Does this mean . . . (could I?!) . . . you mean I might be able to . . . TAKE A SHOWER IN MY OWN HOUSE TONIGHT??!!!

Happy Valentine's Day TO ME!!!

Valentine's Day 2007, Part III

But, a phenomenally GOOD thing about this disaster was this: the takeout line. It was free, clear, and open. This meant that the problem was NOT in the drainfield. Had it been, we would have been you-know-what-outta-luck until spring.

So, be grateful for small miracles.

But, back to the problem at hand . . . .

Valentine's Day 2007, Part II

So! The good news is that the ice on top of the tank was only skim ice. That means it hadn't been frozen that long (basically, we could trace that back to when the toilet backed up). But, this is what was the problem (see pictures). I don't know if you can tell from this picture or not, but the input line (that runs from the house to the tank) was FULL and FROZEN SOLID.

Ah-ha! Problem found!

Valentine's Day 2007

Sooo . . . where was I? Right, our (my) fantastic Valentine's Day.

In short, I connected with Septic Guy Tuesday night, and he promised to be out on Wednesday . . . as would be the plumber to hook up the shower.

Now, Valentine's Day also happened to be the day Tom had to leave for his Iowa business trip (who plans these things?!). FORTUNATELY and not running behind as I usually am, I had Tom packed up the night before, and he planned on stopping at my folks' in town for a shower on his way to the airport. The flight itinerary showed him leaving around 2:00 PM.

At 9:20 that morning, Tom checked his e-mail from my desk here at home. The flightplan had changed without notice - now leaving at 12:50 . . . and it's a 3-hour drive (MINimum) from home to the airport! Brief insanity ensued, and, with slight panic in his eyes, Tom was out the door and on his way! (Forget the shower in town! He'd have to go stinky.)

Fast forward into the day: Tom makes his flight by the skin of his teeth, the plumber is here installing what he needed to install, but still no sign of Septic Guy. And, what good's plumbing without somewhere for the water to go?! Finally in the late afternoon, #2 Septic Guy shows up (not the boss - which disappointed me, but he'd had a family emergency).

So, #2 Septic Guy shovels off the septic tank and opens it up. This is what he finds (see above picture). Not good. The entire tank contents had a layer of ice on it. When a septic system is working properly, the bacteria in it creates its own heat - literally. This, obviously, wasn't happening. So, how thick was the ice?

Dum, dum, dummmmmm . . . .

The Potty In Question

I love this picture because it looks like a northwoods version of a POW camp - complete with rubber hose and rustic privy!

So, it being too late to call the septic guy (what was he going to do that night?!) and the attempt at thawing the clean-out proving futile, we resigned ourselves to a couple of days of roughin' it. I.e., piddling outside in temperatures SO COLD that the snow and ice cracks and snaps underneath you when the warm . . . well, you know . . . hits it, and doing our "other business" in this suddenly much appreciated (for something other than just being an "antique") commode (which we lined with a plastic bag, of course).

So, the next morning, I call the septic guy right away at 8:00 AM. I get his wife. We are one of approximately 100 (that's one HUNDRED) folks in this predicament. He will call us just as soon as he can. With an appointment and full day ahead of me, I throw a load of laundry (for Tom's business trip) into the car and head into town.

About 2/3 of the way in, my cellphone picks up reception for the first time. I have a message. It's the septic guy. He's going to be out in our neck of the woods and, since we're so remote, thinks he can squeeze us in today even though there are tons of other people ahead of us. But, he needs directions to the new house.

Cellphone reception being good enough to receive messages but not call out (clearly), I whip a U-turn and fly back about 7 miles to the general store where there is a phone. I get Septic Guy's own cellphone. No reception. He's out on a call. I leave detailed (DETAILED) directions of how to get to our house. I hope he'll check his voicemail from a landline before he leaves the area and heads back into town.

So, hmmm, what should I do? Continue on with my day thinking it's too late for him to show up? Go back home and cancel all my appointments on the slight chance that he'll make it? Yep, that's what I've gotta do!

By the time I get back home, I've driven 46 miles and accomplished nothing. But, some days are like that. By 3:00 in the afternoon I give up and head into town to wash the load of laundry at Mom and Dad's and take what I hope will be the last shower at their house.

Sagas

Tonight we'll move on from the chicken butchering saga to the septic saga. And, believe me, I really wish there was no septic saga to tell!

Pretty much everywhere in Minnesota experienced a cold snap the last couple of weeks. Up here, the high during the day didn't get over 13 degrees in 13 days (usually it never even got up to zero), and the low bottomed out at -27 degrees. Add to this the lack of snow for ground cover which provides insulation for septic pipes, tanks, mound systems, and drain fields, and you have the makings for a real disaster . . . county-wide.

Because we have the most snow in the county (save maybe further north, as the crow flies), we didn't give this impending problem a thought. We heard of folks whose water lines froze, whose septics froze. If we'd still been at Hastings, we would have been dealing with these problems, and we wondered aloud how the woman was doing who bought it. But, we didn't worry.

We should have.

The plumber was due Valentine's Day to install (again, FINALLY) the shower. That was Wednesday. Concurrent with this was the business trip that Tom had to go on . . . leaving on Wednesday. On Monday afternoon, after a day of using the water like normal, I flushed the toilet. It bubbled . . . and stopped. I flushed it again. No water went down. Matter of fact, the water only rose! Sh*t! Where the hell is the plunger?! (Even tho I'd done nothing to warrant the clog, thank you very much.) I managed to catch Tom at work to ask him to buy a plunger on the way home. "Why," he asks? I explain the situation. "Oh, no! It's not plugged. That's the septic line." I, in complete denial, insist that he still purchase and bring home a plunger . . . which he does.

Upon receipt of said plunger shortly after 5:00 PM, I go into the bathroom to face the offending toilet. I plunge. Nothing. I plunge a second time. Hard. Waste water SHOOTS out of the trap next to the toilet where the guest shower will eventually be (fortunately, a baggie was covering the opening of it). Waste water also squeezes out from the seal around the entire base of the toilet. Umm, yeah . . . it's not a clog. Unfortunately.

So, Tom suits up and heads outside to take the top off the septic line clean-out at the side of the house. It's full of water. To the top. And, the water is frozen. Not good. Not good at all.

A search for the salamander heater and a rigging-up of chimney pipe (to channel the heat through) to try to thaw out the clean-out is next. Except, in the frigid temps we've been having, the fuel in the salamander is like molasses, and it won't catch fire. So, into the house the entire contraption goes to warm up and thaw out a bit. Meanwhile, Tom heads up to the trapper cabin to retrieve the antique commode bought at an estate sale a summer or two ago.

Moving On . . . .

So, in an effort to move on from that depressing-as-hell last post, here is what's transpired since last Thursday and our first attempt as on-air personalities. The program director thought I was hysterical to worry so much about what had happened (saying such a stupid thing) and losing a potential pledge to the station. Point being, they still want me / us. Also point being, each and every radio show host who's learned of my snafu has related their own - many of which involved the F-word going out over the air which could have (and, legally, should have) gotten our FCC license yanked.

I'm still super hesitant about saying something on-air that is going to hurt or offend, and I think it's going to be a real high-wire act to find that balance between censoring myself and still being (blathering ol') me.

But, it sounds like we'll eventually be heading down that road again (of being on the radio). As is the case with falling off the proverbial horse, I just need to get back on and get my confidence back.

Maybe THIS time I just won't tell everyone that we're going to be on-air! ;)

Tom @ the radio station on 8 February 2007.

Thumbs Up, Thumbs Down

Some background to the following story: since even before moving up here, Tom and I had given thought to volunteering for the local community radio station. So, recently, we finally contacted the program director about the possibility of starting our own show. One of the precursors to that is sitting in and participating in other, established shows to both "see how it's done" and feel comfortable on the radio. Our first go at it was last night.

While Tom was the nervous one about speaking LIVE, with "everyone listening", I was ready to go - "I'll participate in whatever you throw my way," I said!

While Tom has been in Corporate America and the business world for most of his working life, he knows what to say and when to say it. I, on the other hand, seem to have never acquired - or, if I did, lost - the social "filter", if you will, required to not offend. And, when you're on the radio . . . live, on the radio . . . that's a bad thing. A really bad thing.

It's always been a running joke among my friends that I'll usually be the one to blurt out what everyone else is thinking and/or stick my foot in my mouth one way or the other. And, it's never been a harmful thing before because . . . well, maybe because it's said in a group of only 4 or 8 people, it's laughed at and/or eyes are rolled, and that's that. The same can't be said when it's broadcast not only locally but also nationwide via streaming media on the Internet.

That said . . . .

To participate in the quick banter and witty repartee on a radio show, you need to shoot from the hip. So, last night, I was shooting all right, fast and furious, right in there with the best of 'em.

I was shooting, but I wasn't thinking.

Words were falling out of my mouth before the social filter even had a chance to kick in. Heck, I nearly managed to cause one of the station's major underwriters a PR heart attack which would have been followed by the quick ZIP of them pulling their funding away. I managed to - somewhat clumsily - divert the path of my comments to relative benign-ness, but not before each of the 3 other people in the studio were making frantic "No, no, NO!" motions with their hands and slicing their fingers across their necks . . . including Tom.

But, I think the real problem lies within the fact that I didn't think it would have been so horrible a comment to make . . . because I was just expressing my own views. What's the big deal? But, when you're an announcer at a radio station, you don't get to voice your own opinions. Maybe about the weather, but not about how happy you were to write the last check to the one and only local electric company when you finally went completely solar. You are representing the radio station and the community as a whole. NO EDITORIALS. It says that in the volunteer manual in plain, bold letters. I read it just yesterday. I think I just didn't realize quite the impact that it had until last night.

The worst thing, though, is that I (albeit inadvertently) disrespected someone on the air.

Last night signaled the start of the radio station's on-air pledge week. So, along with the witty banter, we were plugging community radio and asking for pledges. And, it worked: the phone started ringing with generous pledges . . . one of which was from my family in the southwestern part of the country! Yayy! (Well, it would have been "yayy" had I not opened my mouth and "shot from the hip".)

During the course of thanking them on-air (and, again, trying to keep the listener entertained with our clever chit-chat) I threw out some trivia about their part of the world. About their very city, in fact. "Did you know that ____ has the highest air pollution in the entire United States?!" I know . . . CRINGE. The conversation naturally turned to how we have some of the cleanest air. No biggie (I thought). That's them, this is us. I enjoy trivia, and that happened to be the one piece of trivia I knew about where they live. Just like when another relative called from Hollywood, and the trivia I threw out was, "Straight from 90210!" (a reference to the popular TV show) which does, indeed, happen to be his zip code.

But, without thinking - by going spur-of-the-moment - I offended. Deeply. Perhaps, if more than just relatives were web-streaming, I offended many members of that city . . . than just the two members of my family.

The plain, simple truth is that I don't think I can trust what comes out of my mouth in "think quick" situations like being ON AIR. I don't think the radio is the place for me. Sure, I can enunciate clearly and read the weather well, but the mindless banter? Forget it. 'Cause for me, it is mindless . . . not mindless in the sense of not believing what I say, but mindless in the sense of not thinking about the possible and potential consequences of those thoughts on the people hearing them . . . now voiced and "out there", never to be "taken back". And, therein lies the problem.

I hurt people last night that I love, I lost a sizable contribution to the pledge drive, and I could have caused a major financial loss for the radio station. I take full responsibility for that, and I'm not going to risk doing that again.

Above Zero!

Today, for the first time since the 1st, we have - finally - cracked the zero degree mark! Eleven of the chickens celebrated the heatwave by sleeping underneath the chicken house last night despite the coziness of the coop now that the heat lamp is keeping things toasty in there. And, really, why not - it only got down to -11 last night! (Dumb birds . . . .)

The three schools in the district were closed on Monday and had a two-hour late start yesterday, but my poor dad . . . even though officials find it too dangerous for children to be out, the teachers are legally required to be in school on "Snow Days". Or, in this case, "Cold Days". Ah, yes, that's administration for you!

An artist friend of ours had a presentation at a local gallery this past Saturday, and we were going to go but ultimately decided against it given the inclement weather . . . especially when we were so cozily ensconced here at home. Well, turns out that we should have gone . . . simply to start up a vehicle! Stupid us, we never thought to run the vehicles during the cold snap.

So, come Monday morning - which Tom took off so that we could celebrate our 7th anniversary - no vehicles would start! We thought my little zippy Forester would be the best option, but it was uncooperative. His Outback, the one plugged in, was next. Nothin'. Then I hauled up to the Trapper Cabin to try the new plow truck. (The old plow truck has a weak battery, so we weren't even going to attempt that, and the pickup is parked at my folks' awaiting a long-ago-promised drop-off at the local junk yard.) The new plow truck w-a-n-t-e-d to start but just couldn't quite manage it.

So then, with a full day planned but no wheels, we hauled out an extra battery and the jumper cables. Try #1 on my car. Nope. Try #2 on Tom's car. Nope. Try #3 on the plow truck. So close, so close, soclose, soclose . . . ! Tom headed back down to the garage to get some starter fluid, and, with that threat hanging, I got 'er goin' just as Tom returned! Yayyy!

So, not driving the gas-efficient vehicle we had planned on, but underway nonetheless, we loaded up our emergency gear and the dogs and headed out!

After a stop at my folks' for our weekly (okay, not quite, but almost) showers and a good scrambled egg brunch that my mom whipped up for us, we were off. For Christmas, I'd asked for a new pair of Steger mukluks, but I knew I wanted to go to the store to try them on to find the perfect fit. So, this was our first opportunity to do so (and, a good excuse to take the time, too, since it was our anniversary). The day having gotten off to a late start, we didn't arrive at our destination (just over 3 hours from home) until just after 3:00 in the afternoon. So, there wasn't much time for "seeing the town". We got my mukluks, stopped into one another store, and then researched where to have dinner.

Now, this remote little town located in the far northwoods of MN is surrounded by lakes and the BWCA and is an outdoor-enthusiast / canoe-paddling / granola-eating ("our kind of people") mecca . . . in the summertime. In the wintertime, it is a snowmobiling / Bud Light drinking / Bubba / redneck mecca. Down deep inside, I knew this but had temporarily forgotten it.

So, instead of the organic greens with a gourmet meal and a bottle or Cooper Mountain organic wine on the side dinner that we easily could have gotten in the summer (from the seasonal restaurants that cater to such eaters) and that I was SO looking forward to having that night, we were given the option (from the two most high-end stores in town) of two restaurants for dinner. One, "where the tourists go" which was right on a lake, and the other "where the locals go" - a steakhouse (and they used that term very loosely) - right in town. We got in the truck and decided to drive around to A) check out both places, B) warm up the truck in the cold temps, and C) warm up the dogs who were in the cold truck.

The lodge on the lake WAS very "touristy", and it's been our experience when we travel that the places frequented by the locals are - generally speaking - the MUCH better and more unique of the two. So, it was back into town to the steakhouse.

3 February 2007

This is what two really cold people look like when it's -14 degrees outside. Notice how my hair, scarf, and hat are all white and frozen but Tom's hat isn't? That's because skunk fur is one of the wild animal furs that doesn't frost up! Nifty, huh?!

Speaking of his gorgeous, warmest-there-ever-was, one-of-a-kind hat . . . I did the UNSPEAKABLE tonight. With his approval (THANK GOODNESS), I wore it out to do chores 'cause the hat IS so warm (and it's -17 as I write this). However, it's also really windy and gusty tonight. When I had the wood furnace open, stoking it up, a wind gust sent a blast of fire out - straight into Tom's hat. The horrible result was that all the front hairs on it fried and curled right up. I feel sooooooooooooo bad! He's since tried brushing it out with a fine-toothed comb, and it won't be noticeable to someone who doesn't know the hat, but I'll certainly never be wearing it again! (And, as an aside, I - stupidly - never would have thought animal fur to be so susceptible to heat like that!)

28 January 2007

File this experience under Things to Know. On Sunday morning, when Tom's sister-in-law and her girlfriend dropped the guys off here to work, the automatic door lock (VERY poorly placed) accidentally got knocked as they were all getting out . . . quite effectively locking the keys in the car. Here are Tom and his brother (in sub-zero temperatures) trying to locate the hidden set of keys under the snow-impacted carriage of the vehicle.

No luck. The magnetic key holder must have fallen off. No problem, we have GM's OnStar.

Now, here's where the FYI part comes into play. Turns out that (despite their advertisement that a message sent via satellite will unlock the vehicle) you also need CELLPHONE SERVICE AS WELL AS a satellite beam. And, of course, there's no regular air wave cellphone service up here in the boondocks. Oops!

Fortunately, by this time, the errant hidden set of keys HAD been found buried under impacted snow and ice. And, to their credit, GM was ready to send out a locksmith, although, by our figuring, the nearest certified GM locksmith would have been a minimum of 3 hours away. Hmmmmm. Makes you think, doesn't it?!

7 January 2007

After pulling Tom out of the ditch, I inched my way down the road to turn around. When I looked up, this is what I saw. Now, mind you, when I'd left him, the truck was sitting on the road, pointed straight up the hill! Oh, I laughed! THIS is how icy it is! He tried to drive forward and was just pulled directly sideways!

Lordy, lordy . . . !

At least he got to enjoy his last birthday celebration - a nice cap to a somewhat stressful birthday weekend. We headed up to Canada with two dear friends to eat at one of our favorite places that night. Ahi tuna sushi for starters and wild boar with homemade pasta, a Creole fillet, cedar-planked salmon, and Gorgonzola-encrusted salmon for dinner! M-m-good! (But I ate too much - oooohh!)