According to the infallible weather media, we are to get a serious “strom”, somewhere over the next day or two.
The sky does look a bit “stromy” and it was decidedly cold this morning.
Cold enough, anyway that I’ve started re-building my ice castle.
According to this photograph, we must have had 5 nights of below freezing weather last week, but then one morning about 2 days ago, I went out and thought Spring had arrived.
My ice had all melted over night, it was that warm.
It’s not right. It gets creatures confused. Plants too.
They say this strom will be the biggest “weather event” in several years, wicked winds, lots of “accumulation”, disruption even (will anyone notice?)
But the maps I’ve seen indicate that we may be only on the fringe. It may all pass south of us.
See, big scary cloud looming on the southern horizon.
Traditionally, when the media gets all in a snit about the weather forecast, nothing happens.
Contrarily, I can remember a colleague of mine coming to work one day complaining how he’d just finished shoveling 12 inches of “partly cloudy” off his driveway.
We’ll take what comes.
It may give us an opportunity to find out whether or not our generator was actually fixed.
We had occasion to use it, not because of bad weather, but because of the fool who managed to wipe out two power lines, causing a lengthy absence of electricity.
Fortunately, we got through the event before our machine failed, because without power water does not get pumped up from the well. Not the most enormous problem, but with 11 cat bowls to wash, you know, it’s quite inconvenient.
When the motor quit, Grant checked it all out, fiddled and poked and swore at it, finally admitting defeat.
So I got on the internet and called every person in the area who seemed as if they could possibly know anything about generators. Bupkis. Nobody was in the least interested.
The option began to look like getting a whole new, expensive installation, which seemed a bit OTT, considering how rarely we need the thing. (Once since October, 2018)
Somehow, one of us got a name volunteered, but no number. “Oh, he’s in Cambridge.” Something like that.
We do actually have a small local phone book, but consulting it has never been in the least productive.
(If we had actually run short of toilet paper, perhaps it would have found a purpose.)
But then I remembered seeing that name somewhere.
It was not the person we needed, but in a small town, there was a chance they were related.
And in due course, a bloke turned up.
Who told us at length all about generators. And about his life story, leaving out very few details. And about a dude he knows who writes about bears….
Grant eventually persuaded him to consult the generator while I slunk off elsewhere, something really important needed taking care of…
A variety of noises issued from the vicinity of the garage and quantities of dark smoke, followed shortly thereafter by Grant, shaking his head.
“I had to tell him I couldn’t stay and talk”, he said. “I’ve got work to do. But I think he’s pissed off.”
After a few more noises and back-fires, the generator finally turned over and appeared, from the sound, to be working.
So I went out to talk to the fix-it chap who brushed me off, saying that an invoice would be sent, got in his truck and drove away, in high dudgeon.
Clearly, we had deeply offended him.
“But he was going to get us a price on a replacement?”
He was, but so deep was his pique, he had obviously dismissed us as unsuitable customers.
In consequence, we aren’t at all sure to what extent he repaired the old motor. Grant did get it started up, but how long it will keep going remains to be seen.
In the meantime, Willow got all excited at the prospect of a snow strom. Storm.
Oh, the ice blocks…we put water out every day for wild creatures. I’m not really so daffy as to build ice castles.