I have this problem with the lack of winter light. I become somewhat claustrophobic. This happens when the sun sets around 4 p.m. At five, I realize that I will be hanging out in the dark for another five hours, and this is if I go to bed early, at 10 p.m. I grow antsy and anxious. And I feel like clawing at the sky. Some have what they call SAD lights, SAD stands for seasonal affective disorder. The lights are for those who primarily suffer from depression. I suffer from secondary depression. so I do not know if I will in any way benefit from having a SAD light around. I also cannot see myself being able to sit under a light for any great length of time. And, I fear that this light might use a lot of electricity, which is something we have to be careful of, living off the grid ‘n all.

It's good we are going into spring now because what might be unbearable is now bearable. Our well pump died – we didn’t know what the problem was, and in fact the problem tested Pete’s troubleshooting abilities. It was not the check valve nor was it a clogged pipe. The problem was actually the pump itself, which was odd because Zach the well driller came out and tested it and the pump worked.

Zac with pump truck

Zach came yesterday and replaced the pump. This took about four hours. Fortunately, the sun was shining brightly, which I suspect put him in a good mood. The pump and labor charge, were, as expected, pricey. It was good that the pump was replaced when it was replaced because the water pressure in the pipes had dropped, meaning that I had two choices when I took a shower. I could have low pressure hot water or high pressure cold water. I tried, to no avail, to find a middle ground.

Orange silty water is also bad for livestock, so it was good that Pete saw problem solving as being a priority.

And then there was today. I decided to clean the upstairs – this was something that I’d put off for some time. It was like living in the dustbowl up here – the dust bunnies were ankle deep. So I put all the boxes of books on the floor of my work area on our adjacent bed and I swept my office floor. Then I went and lugged the vacuum cleaner upstairs. I plugged it in, and it did nothing. I mean, nothing. I called in the household trouble shooter who, following in my footsteps, checked out the light sockets. Then he gave the old Hoover a once over. He found what I surmised were chew marks on the cord.

It is likely that Shadow helped herself to cord.

Well, we now need a new vacuum cleaner.

I wonder what else around here is going to die.

Next: 65. 3/6/23: Spring