This morning, the sun broke through for a few hours. I quickly lifted my insulated curtains on the south side for free heat. I was grateful to see no snow on the ground and hoped the sun would warm the Earth to around freezing.
I got almost all the rest of my food, and some utensils out of the kitchen in 4 trips. I refused to pack heavy boxes to carry in the wind. The house felt evil and menacing. Frost sheeted windows and metal. Despite the cold, it smelt moldering and decayed. I moved quickly. I went back for my audio recording equipment and important papers. At some point, I grabbed a scoop of feed for the goats. The water I'd saved into dish pans and large soup pots was frozen solid, even the 5 gallon pot. The goldfish is in the full bath tub. I hope she survived.
The aluminum frame over my bed began to sag with metal fatigue last night, so I drilled pilot holes in it and in a six foot long 1x4 board from the old couch frame and repaired it.
My kitchen is functional, fully stocked and quite charming. It is a place of nurture and creativity. I saved over a foot square of precious counter space when I realized the corner, overhead cabinet had a large enough door on it that I could slide the microwave inside it and shut the door. I have 6 window boxes, about 4 inches by a foot and a half that were on sale for seventy five cents each at a dollar store at the end of summer. They are lined along the back of the counter and hold my herbs, spices, teas, condiments and other small jars and bottles. This leaves plenty of counter space for a couple of plates, or a mixing bowl, or a large cutting board. I can work in it without feeling cramped. I still have empty cabinets. I hung bamboo Easter baskets from the overhead cabinets with huggies, napkins, coffee filters, funnels and the like, over the window boxes.
I fixed the filing cabinet over the furnace so I can begin loading my pots, pans etc. into it.
I hope they are right and that it warms this weekend. I can't stand being out there. It pulls the air from my lungs. My nose has been cold for two days now. I won't turn the heat above 60f, and try to keep it lower than that, for fear of running out of propane.
I flagged down a neighbor in the road yesterday, before the worst weather hit. I gave her four dollars and she took me to the dollar store, so I could get cat kibble. They had xmas marked down. I got a good coffee mug for fifty cents, several cans of butter cookies, some almond cookies, mint patties, etc. It fills a basket in a kitchen shelf with cheerful food. If I hadn't gone, the cats would have run out tomorrow.
My neighbor who is on facebook did not respond to a private message, requesting a trip to the store. I'm a bit worried about her health. She hasn't posted on FB in over a week. It's too cold to walk all the way to her house.
I'm wearing 2 flannel night gowns, a fleece pajama top and a heavy, terry cloth bath robe. I'm under four blankets, one electric and flannel sheets and my feet are still cold. I dread every trip out of bed and put off eating, urinating and drinking until I can't stand it anymore before I'll unearth myself from this pile of dog and cats.
Poor dog must now sleep on the floor; she can't climb up here and, frankly, there's no room. So, I covered an old sofa cushion in a hand-crocheted baby blanket and put a little kid's vest on her. She was begging to go OUT, so she could climb through the cat door of the house and get up in the old bed! Even though the house is cold, I guess the floor in here was colder, or at least harder, and she was uncomfortable. She's settled now, snoring and farting on her private bed in front of the bathroom door.
The goats can come and go through the back door into their room whenever they like, but they are enduring the cold outside, in their tattered coats (they tear them, going under the house), seeking soft spots in bunches of hay or folded tarps in the yard. I've given them their evening feed already and I'm sure they'll go back inside well before dark. They miss me. They hear me in here and cry and butt the trailer, trying to get me to come out. I just shout, "I hear you!" and that seems to satisfy them.
I remember days like this, last year, when a fire in the place was no help, when the drafts were brutal as knives, when it hurt to go to the bathroom or just stand on the kitchen floor long enough to prepare a meal.
This landlord is a true sociopath. If he shows up this month and tries to apply any pressure on me to move before I am ready, I don't know how I'll resist the urge to burn it to the ground.
R surprised me by calling yesterday, just to make sure I'm safe and happy in this trailer. That was nice. She is enjoying investigating every aspect of her new job and will help me move out there, if I need it.
Fatty Watty Kitty Catty is romping on the counter tops, with a big smile on her face, flirting with the icicle xmas lights and rubbing her slobbers all over my spice bottles. I guess this means the kitchen passes inspection. Now, she's hunkering down to nap in the cabinet over the freezer.
All is well. I just hope the power doesn't go out.