I went outside with the kids this afternoon. It started as a job. We had finished another row of wood and I couldn't reach the top of the next row. My oldest daughter offered her help (in capris and my housecoat) as I climbed up on the chair on my tiptoes to reach for the afternoon's firebox fuel. When the job was completed I look around, for my son had joined us and I couldn't find where the kids had wandered off to. They were off somewhere in the back of the property. I decided to set aside my work and trudged through the still deep yet melting snow to see what they were doing.
A chickadee caught my attention as it fluttered from branch to branch almost in a conversational dance. He cocked his head in a way that seemed to suggest a salutation of some sort. We followed squirrel tracks around and around and around the yard. I looked up to the clear blue sky and let the sun fall on my face, enjoying the quiet sounds of nature. As I turned around and saw my house bathed in warm sunlight, icicles dripping with the remnants of a bitterly cold January, I was struck with awe.
It is a beautiful creation that God has made for us. It is wonderful redemption that God offers us. It so permeates all our lives that we see it each year in the renewal of nature, in the cycles of life. The old melting away, the new bursting forth with vibrant colour and strength.
O Glorious Spring, we wait for your arrival with expectant hearts (and cold feet).
Friday, February 13, 2009
Thursday, February 12, 2009
Barbeque Anyone?
Well, it's 10:45 pm and we just came in from hooking up the propane to the house. Yes, the propane. We live miles from civilized society, there's no delivery system of natural gas here. So, there's propane and it runs our tankless hot water heater, fridge and stove. Outside of electricity, it's the most important source of energy for our house. And we run out of it about every 4 weeks! Just like the firebox for heat, we need to maintain the propane so that we can heat our water and cool our food. It's a bit of a pain and at times I remember my suburban life of not remembering.
I have to admit that we are somewhat unprepared to live in the country in Northern Ontario. We drive a minivan, not a four-wheel drive SUV, we don't have a truck or trailer (key in the transportation of things like...oh... propane tanks which can't be put in enclosed vehicles) and up until a couple weeks ago I didn't even own a pair of long underwear. We didn't think about how we would get a new propane tank here in the first place. Let's just say that the past couple months have involved calling friends upon discovery of the empty propane tank and asking them if they would kindly drive the 25 minutes to our house to get the tank, drive another 15 minutes to the exchange depot and well, you get the picture.
A solution had to be found for this problem and buying a brand new Ford Explorer Sporttrac XE in pearlized black with a bed extender and heated seats and moonroof wasn't an option. Fortunately my husband, ever the industrious man, called the propane company which furnishes the store out here in Goulais and they said for an small fee they would deliver the propane to us! Perfect, so now we can get it here.
The countdown had begun as we knew it had been about 4 weeks since last begging a friend to come and bring us propane. We were trying not to use too much for fear of running out. So, the propane was delivered today and waiting for my husband to hook it up when he got home. I bathed the kids, and cooked our lasagna and as I pulled the cooked dinner out of the oven discovered that we had finally run out. God's grace or good timing? Now all I had to do was wait for Darren to come home and magically put on the tank...or whatever it is that he does.
Darren got home tonight at 10pm and I decided that I would come out while he performed the installation...moral support. So there we are, in the dark, Darren dragging the hundred pound tank over the snowbank and around to the back of the house. The part of the house that faces 100's of acres of crown land. It is at this point in the story that I should mention the wolves. We heard a pack of wolves howling last night and they sounded mighty close to our street! So here we are, at the back of the house in the dark. Didn't have a flashlight and couldn't find the lantern so I'm standing with a mirror trying to reflect the light shining from the bathroom window into the area where Darren is working. Oh, and holding a pipe wrench to fend off the wolves...should they come.
As I'm sure you can deduce. you are reading this blog post so we did not get eaten by any wolves. And, we were successful in restoring some of our beloved amenities (that would have just been provided without thinking had we remained in suburbanville). It's kind of annoying to me that we have to do it, especially when its cold and late and dark. BUT, it did provide my husband and I with a good laugh...and hopefully you too. Isn't that what life should be about?
And I thought propane was just for barbeques!
I have to admit that we are somewhat unprepared to live in the country in Northern Ontario. We drive a minivan, not a four-wheel drive SUV, we don't have a truck or trailer (key in the transportation of things like...oh... propane tanks which can't be put in enclosed vehicles) and up until a couple weeks ago I didn't even own a pair of long underwear. We didn't think about how we would get a new propane tank here in the first place. Let's just say that the past couple months have involved calling friends upon discovery of the empty propane tank and asking them if they would kindly drive the 25 minutes to our house to get the tank, drive another 15 minutes to the exchange depot and well, you get the picture.
A solution had to be found for this problem and buying a brand new Ford Explorer Sporttrac XE in pearlized black with a bed extender and heated seats and moonroof wasn't an option. Fortunately my husband, ever the industrious man, called the propane company which furnishes the store out here in Goulais and they said for an small fee they would deliver the propane to us! Perfect, so now we can get it here.
The countdown had begun as we knew it had been about 4 weeks since last begging a friend to come and bring us propane. We were trying not to use too much for fear of running out. So, the propane was delivered today and waiting for my husband to hook it up when he got home. I bathed the kids, and cooked our lasagna and as I pulled the cooked dinner out of the oven discovered that we had finally run out. God's grace or good timing? Now all I had to do was wait for Darren to come home and magically put on the tank...or whatever it is that he does.
Darren got home tonight at 10pm and I decided that I would come out while he performed the installation...moral support. So there we are, in the dark, Darren dragging the hundred pound tank over the snowbank and around to the back of the house. The part of the house that faces 100's of acres of crown land. It is at this point in the story that I should mention the wolves. We heard a pack of wolves howling last night and they sounded mighty close to our street! So here we are, at the back of the house in the dark. Didn't have a flashlight and couldn't find the lantern so I'm standing with a mirror trying to reflect the light shining from the bathroom window into the area where Darren is working. Oh, and holding a pipe wrench to fend off the wolves...should they come.
As I'm sure you can deduce. you are reading this blog post so we did not get eaten by any wolves. And, we were successful in restoring some of our beloved amenities (that would have just been provided without thinking had we remained in suburbanville). It's kind of annoying to me that we have to do it, especially when its cold and late and dark. BUT, it did provide my husband and I with a good laugh...and hopefully you too. Isn't that what life should be about?
And I thought propane was just for barbeques!
Friday, January 23, 2009
Fire and Fashion
I heat with wood. How do you heat your home? I would venture to guess that many of you would answer this question by saying that you turn the thermostat to "heat" and that's how you heat your house. Up until 8 weeks ago, I would have the said the same thing. I mean, I would just go over to the wall, turn the little dial to "heat" and voila! I never would have taken the time to consider how the furnace actually worked or what I needed to do to make the heat continue to flow (outside of paying the bill).
I knew full well when we moved up here that we would be heating with wood and that to produce this heat we would be burning the wood in a woodstove. Now, the world of woodstoves is not completely foreign to me as I grew up going to my grandparent's cottage which had only a woodstove. But that was of course, in the summer and I never acutally asked how it worked or what was the best way to start and maintain a fire. But that didn't really mean anything to me becuase Darren was going to be working from home and he did grow up with a woodstove so he would handle it. All I would have to do is sit there, look pretty and get warm. It didn't work out that way though. No more than a week after arriving in Goulais River Darren discovered that he would have to go into town after all. (That is another surprise about the country...you can't get super-fast internet!) Within a couple days he had an office and I was alone with the kids, in the bush, in December.
My immediate response was one of panic. What was I going to do? How do I build a fire? How do I keep it going once I've got it started? What if I burn our brand new house in the bush...and all the bush...down? Once I realized this wasn't going to be the end of the world I decided to embrace the challenge. That is one of the reasons why we moved up here in the first place. We wanted more out of life, an adventure. So this would be one of my first. I would learn how to use this cast-iron fire box that sits smack in the middle of my house. I am a progressive woman, I have a degree, I can learn how to build a fire...right?
This is where it gets complicated. Apparently, building a fire is a very personal thing. Everyone who has had experience with building fires has their own ideas about how it is done. Nay, they are more like beliefs, passionately held beliefs! One says you need lots of wood, another says lots of heat, still another says -no shouts- that its all about what you use to get the fire going. My goodness I just want a warm house! I decided to read about fire (who knows what good that was actually going to do me but I was out to prove my intelligence, my independence) on wikipedia and became disillusioned. The fire tetrahedron!? Come on!
In the end I just dove in (figuratively speaking of course). I used wood, I used kindling, I used a lighter...I got fire. I've had about 6 weeks practice and I still have a way to go. This sounds absoluely ridiculous to me but Darren can still build hotter fires than me. He says it has something to do with the coals. But I'm getting there. We are not freezing and that's what counts.
So here are the things I need to do to keep my house warm. I have to go and get the wood out of the wood shed. (Here I am fortunate becuase when we bought the house we also bought all the wood in the shed which should cover us for a couple years...so no chopping yet). I try to pile as much as I can at the front door so I don't have to go out too much when its -30. Then comes the intricate yet delicate interplay of kindling, log placement and ignition (otherwise known as pure luck). Once there is some flame I close the door of the stove most of the way but not too much as to extinguish what I worked so hard to achieve. You would think that I'm home free at this point but I have to make sure to watch the fire and put another log on before it dies down too much and I have to trust luck to get it started again. Every couple weeks I have to take out the ash tray (found underneath where the fire burns...Vermont Castings has something going here) and clean them out. The dumping of the ash requires much technique as not to get it all over my clothes. If I continue to repeat this from September to March (some people say June but I am not speaking that into my life...glass half full) then I will have a warm house!
This seems like a huge hassle. And you know, sometimes I think it is. I get the fire started with great difficulty but then I get busy with my day and totally forget to keep it up and then have to start all over again. The logs are heavy and awkward for me to place in the stove and I tend to get ashes all over the place. But you know, I am proud of myself. I learned a new skill. One very important skill that has been used (and is still used by people all around the world) as one of the cornerstones of daily living. I don't just take my heat for granted anymore.
All my talk about fire has reminded me of one thing that has taken me a bit by surprise about living out in the country and that is clothing. Thinking about it now, saying this sounds even funny to me but I thought people dressed the way they do in the country (compared to city folk) becuase they were simply more casual people. Now I realize its actually for a reason. I am a stay at home mom so my wardrobe though nothing spectacular, is a little more casual. But it is filled with dress pants, jeans that are longer to go with my knee-high black leather high-heeled boots, cute little button-up blouses from RW&Co. These are definately NOT the most ideal outfits in which to get wood or take out the garbage or empty the ashes from the woodstove. Even when I'm in town, I have to walk in snow! Can you believe it?! I've lived in Southern Ontario all my life...there is no snow! And if there is then we call in the army to get rid of it. I'm going to have to go and get boots. And the boots that people wear around here are no pansy boots! My goodness, they look like you could traverse the north pole with them! The people around here call them skidoo boots. We're going to have to work with UGG Australia or something to make them look a little better but I guess thats another post. I guess the bright side of this is that I have a very good reason to get a new wardrobe! LOL!
I knew full well when we moved up here that we would be heating with wood and that to produce this heat we would be burning the wood in a woodstove. Now, the world of woodstoves is not completely foreign to me as I grew up going to my grandparent's cottage which had only a woodstove. But that was of course, in the summer and I never acutally asked how it worked or what was the best way to start and maintain a fire. But that didn't really mean anything to me becuase Darren was going to be working from home and he did grow up with a woodstove so he would handle it. All I would have to do is sit there, look pretty and get warm. It didn't work out that way though. No more than a week after arriving in Goulais River Darren discovered that he would have to go into town after all. (That is another surprise about the country...you can't get super-fast internet!) Within a couple days he had an office and I was alone with the kids, in the bush, in December.
My immediate response was one of panic. What was I going to do? How do I build a fire? How do I keep it going once I've got it started? What if I burn our brand new house in the bush...and all the bush...down? Once I realized this wasn't going to be the end of the world I decided to embrace the challenge. That is one of the reasons why we moved up here in the first place. We wanted more out of life, an adventure. So this would be one of my first. I would learn how to use this cast-iron fire box that sits smack in the middle of my house. I am a progressive woman, I have a degree, I can learn how to build a fire...right?
This is where it gets complicated. Apparently, building a fire is a very personal thing. Everyone who has had experience with building fires has their own ideas about how it is done. Nay, they are more like beliefs, passionately held beliefs! One says you need lots of wood, another says lots of heat, still another says -no shouts- that its all about what you use to get the fire going. My goodness I just want a warm house! I decided to read about fire (who knows what good that was actually going to do me but I was out to prove my intelligence, my independence) on wikipedia and became disillusioned. The fire tetrahedron!? Come on!
In the end I just dove in (figuratively speaking of course). I used wood, I used kindling, I used a lighter...I got fire. I've had about 6 weeks practice and I still have a way to go. This sounds absoluely ridiculous to me but Darren can still build hotter fires than me. He says it has something to do with the coals. But I'm getting there. We are not freezing and that's what counts.
So here are the things I need to do to keep my house warm. I have to go and get the wood out of the wood shed. (Here I am fortunate becuase when we bought the house we also bought all the wood in the shed which should cover us for a couple years...so no chopping yet). I try to pile as much as I can at the front door so I don't have to go out too much when its -30. Then comes the intricate yet delicate interplay of kindling, log placement and ignition (otherwise known as pure luck). Once there is some flame I close the door of the stove most of the way but not too much as to extinguish what I worked so hard to achieve. You would think that I'm home free at this point but I have to make sure to watch the fire and put another log on before it dies down too much and I have to trust luck to get it started again. Every couple weeks I have to take out the ash tray (found underneath where the fire burns...Vermont Castings has something going here) and clean them out. The dumping of the ash requires much technique as not to get it all over my clothes. If I continue to repeat this from September to March (some people say June but I am not speaking that into my life...glass half full) then I will have a warm house!
This seems like a huge hassle. And you know, sometimes I think it is. I get the fire started with great difficulty but then I get busy with my day and totally forget to keep it up and then have to start all over again. The logs are heavy and awkward for me to place in the stove and I tend to get ashes all over the place. But you know, I am proud of myself. I learned a new skill. One very important skill that has been used (and is still used by people all around the world) as one of the cornerstones of daily living. I don't just take my heat for granted anymore.
All my talk about fire has reminded me of one thing that has taken me a bit by surprise about living out in the country and that is clothing. Thinking about it now, saying this sounds even funny to me but I thought people dressed the way they do in the country (compared to city folk) becuase they were simply more casual people. Now I realize its actually for a reason. I am a stay at home mom so my wardrobe though nothing spectacular, is a little more casual. But it is filled with dress pants, jeans that are longer to go with my knee-high black leather high-heeled boots, cute little button-up blouses from RW&Co. These are definately NOT the most ideal outfits in which to get wood or take out the garbage or empty the ashes from the woodstove. Even when I'm in town, I have to walk in snow! Can you believe it?! I've lived in Southern Ontario all my life...there is no snow! And if there is then we call in the army to get rid of it. I'm going to have to go and get boots. And the boots that people wear around here are no pansy boots! My goodness, they look like you could traverse the north pole with them! The people around here call them skidoo boots. We're going to have to work with UGG Australia or something to make them look a little better but I guess thats another post. I guess the bright side of this is that I have a very good reason to get a new wardrobe! LOL!
Monday, January 19, 2009
How Far?
851, 23.7, 9, 0...What could these numbers possibly mean you ask? Well please, let me tell you. :) 851 would be kilometres from my previous home. Yes, I moved from Hamilton, Ontario 851km away to north of Sault Ste. Marie, Ontario. To be specific a little unorganized township called Goulais (pronounced Goolee) River.
What is in Goulais River, you ask? Compared to the city of Hamilton, not much. But it is on the shores of the beautiful Lake Superior. There are a couple corner store type places, a really cool covered ice rink, an LCBO (not much selection unless you like Molson and Labatt) and lots of space, yes space. Why would we go to a place like that? Well, it's quite beautiful and peaceful. If one is looking to simplify their life then this would be the perfect place in which to do it. It is also cheaper. We knocked off $100,000 from our mortgage and have more space then we did in Hamilton. We also believe God called us to move here. We're not sure of all the reasons...yet!
23.7 would also be kilometres from the nearest street light! And that street light would be on the main highway, the only highway, the TransCanada Highway. It's a lonely and dark drive into the house when you leave the highway.
9 is the number of hours it takes to drive here from Hamilton (that is if you hurry, don't run into traffic leaving the GTA and don't stop for too long when you pee). In fact, the Sault is about 9 hours from just about any major centre. It's about 8 hours to Chicago, 9 to Ottawa, 9 to Buffalo and 8 to Thunder Bay. It's just in an awkward place, where Lake Superior, Lake Huron and Lake Michigan all meet. And then, of course, you have to add the time it takes to get from town out to our place which would be about 60 minutes in the winter and 40 the rest of the year.
0, my final number. Can anyone guess what that represents? Anyone? No. Well, it stands for the number of neighbours I have. Yes I have 0 neighbours that live here year round on my street. There is one guy that comes up to his camp (for my Torontonian friends that's way less than a cottage but more than a tent) on the weekends and that's about it. I went from sharing a suburban backyard with six other neighbours (a great bunch of folks, miss you all) to having none! It's definitely something that is taking time to get used to. No more yelling out the back door to see if anyone has an egg. If fact, it's a real hassle if I run out of something because it takes about 20 minutes just to drive to the "Goulais River General Store" and I'm not guaranteed they will have what I need.
So yes, when I say that I have moved to Goulais River most people ask me where and how far? Oh and they also ask why? Why would we do such a thing? That's a really good question. Some days it just seems too clear to me. I'm up for adventure, I like change, I like challenge, I like trees and the outdoors. But then other days is gets a little confusing. Is this really what I wanted to do? Did I really hear God telling me to move up here? Am I crazy? Things have been good and interesting so far. I have learned a lot in the past few weeks and as I get breaks from schooling the kids, loading the wood stove and cleaning the house, I will try to record them here for us all to read.
Have a good night and enjoy your forced air furnaces!
What is in Goulais River, you ask? Compared to the city of Hamilton, not much. But it is on the shores of the beautiful Lake Superior. There are a couple corner store type places, a really cool covered ice rink, an LCBO (not much selection unless you like Molson and Labatt) and lots of space, yes space. Why would we go to a place like that? Well, it's quite beautiful and peaceful. If one is looking to simplify their life then this would be the perfect place in which to do it. It is also cheaper. We knocked off $100,000 from our mortgage and have more space then we did in Hamilton. We also believe God called us to move here. We're not sure of all the reasons...yet!
23.7 would also be kilometres from the nearest street light! And that street light would be on the main highway, the only highway, the TransCanada Highway. It's a lonely and dark drive into the house when you leave the highway.
9 is the number of hours it takes to drive here from Hamilton (that is if you hurry, don't run into traffic leaving the GTA and don't stop for too long when you pee). In fact, the Sault is about 9 hours from just about any major centre. It's about 8 hours to Chicago, 9 to Ottawa, 9 to Buffalo and 8 to Thunder Bay. It's just in an awkward place, where Lake Superior, Lake Huron and Lake Michigan all meet. And then, of course, you have to add the time it takes to get from town out to our place which would be about 60 minutes in the winter and 40 the rest of the year.
0, my final number. Can anyone guess what that represents? Anyone? No. Well, it stands for the number of neighbours I have. Yes I have 0 neighbours that live here year round on my street. There is one guy that comes up to his camp (for my Torontonian friends that's way less than a cottage but more than a tent) on the weekends and that's about it. I went from sharing a suburban backyard with six other neighbours (a great bunch of folks, miss you all) to having none! It's definitely something that is taking time to get used to. No more yelling out the back door to see if anyone has an egg. If fact, it's a real hassle if I run out of something because it takes about 20 minutes just to drive to the "Goulais River General Store" and I'm not guaranteed they will have what I need.
So yes, when I say that I have moved to Goulais River most people ask me where and how far? Oh and they also ask why? Why would we do such a thing? That's a really good question. Some days it just seems too clear to me. I'm up for adventure, I like change, I like challenge, I like trees and the outdoors. But then other days is gets a little confusing. Is this really what I wanted to do? Did I really hear God telling me to move up here? Am I crazy? Things have been good and interesting so far. I have learned a lot in the past few weeks and as I get breaks from schooling the kids, loading the wood stove and cleaning the house, I will try to record them here for us all to read.
Have a good night and enjoy your forced air furnaces!
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