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February 17, 2022: The Calm Between Storms

Nast weather here, rain snow mix on top of already heavy snow. Overcast, we haven’t seen the sun in days. It’s been so long that we would be blinded by the light. We’d be like the goats when they go from darkness (in their shed) to light (in the yard).

I went with Pete to town today, to the Meeting House. Inside, the electric heaters are keeping the place warm. However, the plumbers have not yet begun to work on fixing the pipes or boiler.

An interesting observation. I have been calling around, in an attempt to find a storage site for the books. All the local residents/business owners that I have talked to have mentioned having had to deal with wind-related damage. I commensurate.

I talked with Dan today, he works for the Trinity Lutheran Church. He told me that their pipes froze and the same happened with their two boilers. There were, he said, 30 leaks in the pipes. I said we were kindred spirits, having had 36 leaks at the Meeting House, and one boiler go out.

Alys tied down

This kindred spirit thing worked in our favor – if we want it, we can have second floor office space for the books.

Today I went through our stash, and I amassed 13 boxes of paperbacks for the Goose Creek Correctional Facility. I was disappointed because Joe, the educational coordinator, had requested 20-30 boxes. Tomorrow, before we meet, I will see if I have more boxes over at the U-Haul storage unit. The weather was so crappy today that I did not feel like walking over there.

I sorted and categorized the rest of the stock, in part in preparation for the incoming U-Haul storage locker books.

When, finally, Pete (who’d dropped me off) reappeared, we went over to Turkey Red Restaurant and I stocked the bookcases with new books, good fiction. Because the weather was so bad, we did not venture to the other sites.

Still no 501(c) 3. And so this project remains a house of cards, with the Queen of Hearts holding the entire deck in place.

As I write this, Pete is doing what he does best – trouble shooting. The upstairs phone isn’t working. He has sorted through the pile of cords and is now messing with a little white box. Now, I am thinking, why didn’t I think about doing this?

I sometimes wonder if I lived alone if I’d be a more adept trouble shooter. I suspect so. It’s really easy to say, “Pete, can you fix it?” And usually, he can.

I reiterate what I have said innumerable times in previous dispatches – I could not live here by myself. I thought about this last night, when he was driving home, on the icy roads. It is a little disconcerting to not have an alternative plan in case something did happen to him.

If something happened to me, well, his life would not change much. He’d sell the animals and that would be that. Less work for him, and maybe more travel.

Next: 49. 2/18/22: Mother Nature continues to call the Shots

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