Full

The thaw came last week, so we can turn into the driveway without switching into 4-wheel drive in J.’s truck or backing up for a running start. I could pay for snowplowing, buy a snow blower, or subject my back to shoveling, sure. But where’s the adventure in that?

But seriously, folks. I find that country survival (on a budget) becomes a game of chicken: how far can I push it, what is really necessary, how can I get by, within the limits of safety and prudence? So far I haven’t hired someone to mow my lawn (except once, in April, when it was getting out of hand and my lawnmower was in the shop) and have managed the snow without a trip to Home Depot. Instead of spending money on insulation, I drain my pipes and turn off the water when I leave for the city, which seems to work fine in avoiding a freezing-bursting pipes situation. I did pay for firewood delivery and a new furnace (still making payments, actually). As we drove in the other day, I noticed cracking paint and areas of wood rot in the siding. Hmm… You pick and choose your battles. Like life, kinda. Tonight we expect 7 new inches of the white stuff (although Rocky at the general store says bah!, probably no more than 3 or 4). The pantry, and the wood pile, are stocked.

Depletion and replenishment.

Laundry day today, I love a clean, warm batch of socks and undies, towels and t-shirts; like a new beginning. Or vegetables filling the crisper drawer. A full tank of gas, or the wood pile freshly stacked by the stove. Enough and not too much. The little things. Had to replace my laptop battery this week, the spunky gal at The Apple Store reminded me that the best thing for battery life is to fully charge, fully deplete, fully charge, fully deplete; none of this half-use/half-charge business. Spend it; spend it all.

I have enough of everything, there is no need for need. God, look at that coat rack, vests and jackets and parkas falling off the hooks. 10 pairs of socks, the same for underwear. Four pairs of jeans/cords. A quart and a half of milk in the fridge, three kinds of sausages in the freezer. What else do I need?

Fire is dying down, white embers burning red. No, not all. Of course don’t spend it all. But almost. Almost all. While they’re still burning, while the heat is still burning red. Time to throw on another log.