Autumn Cold, Canada

I woke up cold.  The last Facebook page I saw showed foot high snow in Lethbridge.  I definitely was triggered.  Remembering all the cold times of Canadian childhood .  Parents bundling us in parkas and long johns and wool mittens and togue just to get to the car. There were no in car heaters early days.  Just shivering in the back seat with my brother watching our breath form clouds. Dad would start the car and then he’d get out the window scraper. We’d never warm up on short trips. On long trips we’d overheat.

Today my water heater is on the fritz. I’m waiting for Eric.  Years on my boat I’d fix my own heaters and replace solenoids. I’ve lived with propane, solar panels, wind generators and Diesel engines for decades.  First the sailboat then the fifth wheel. I’ve done it in Canada.  All the time with three jobs. The harsh winds from the north are not to be sneezed at. Yet every year I have caught the flu, either the fall one or the spring one or both.  Right now I’m feeling the draft.. I ran out of propane. I like warm.  The colours of autumn still are beautiful, out of the wind. 

I checked the stove and had fire so figured the problem was the thermostat. It was wonky last year. I found my electric blanket.  I lost electricity last year and used the back up generator a couple of times. There was the power outage and I was thankful that the gas that was sitting in the generator still took spark.  Gilbert, the cockapoo joined me when the electric blanket got warm.  I couldn’t get back to sleep. 

My mind was fluctuating between I wonder why the heater isn’t working. It’s not connected to the water heater not working. What could it be. And a gratitude list. How have I attracted this discomfort?

Thank you God for the nanoseconds we take for granted. Thank you for the molecules and atoms, the electrons, protons and neutrons and the space between. Thank you for the deep depth of blue on a starry night. Thank you for hairy men and smooth women. Thank you for opposites and contrasts, the colours and the shapes. Thank you for beauty in all it’s forms. Thank you for human endeavour. Thank you for saints of all religions. Thank you for science and rocket ships.  

Please get the heating glyches worked out before I move to the moon.  I’m triggered by cold and need a safe place. The southerners all are entitled ungrateful equatorial folk who won’t go north or south out of their soft safe zone but daily they complain about climate change. Our ancestors suffered the ice age. We didn’t end up at the outer fringes of the comfort zone in years past because we wanted the cold.  We Celts were displaced and couldn’t get warm climate land from the brown and black squatters who monopolized the good times for tens of thousands of years and now complain day in and day out because their air conditioning bill is up a few cents.

We’re still out here on the fringes of civilization in Canada battling the coming cold, thinking of our brethren in Argentina and Peru and those of our kind, cold dwellers, living in mountain spaces like Tibet. All of us afraid of the bullies, haters and takers who live in warm temperate regions where they can put all their energy into diabolical schemes about making us pay for their soft entitled lives.

I tried the stove again. No flame. The propane’s out.  I didn’t get the notice in last week to include me in the propane run. I had the bottles out but I forgot to get on the list. I’ve got to add that to the To Do. Get the order in early.  Now fortunately I have the barbecue propane tank.  That’s the last back up. I go through two of the big propane tanks a week.  I can close the back door to the garage this year since the poor cat is gone.  The cat door saved heat.  I may get a more robust electric heater. I don’t think this one does more than a 100 cu feet. There’s one that does 500 cubic feet. I wonder if my electrical system will handle the extra draw.

I’ve been managing limited electricity, 15 am, 30 amp and 50 amp inputs for decades.  If I’m not, I’m on my generator. I’ve got shore power or land hook up which connects to the city grids.  There’s limits though. The refridgerator draws. The electric heater draws. The electric blanket is a god send with little electric demand.  I’m managing these things, juggling draw, batteries storing electricity and I’ve even got the back up generator and a reserve tank. The solar panels keep the battery charged. I don’t have a wind generator or water generator on the fifth wheel. I get by. I don’t need an entitled angry rich teen ager to tell me about climate change. I don’t need fat cat UN dictators and elite soft boys and their elegant women to tell me about weather and managing.  I doubt any of them have ever lived off the grid. Maybe for a weekend camping trip with guides and body guards. But not day in and day out. I know a whole lot of survivalists who get by. There was a time I hand cranked electricity.  Now the silly people in the south, those wasteful folk, pretend to speak with authority and tell us about energy. Really?  

I enjoyed my stove that burning wood created enough energy to charge my iPhone.  It was like so many of these ‘cute’ things fine if I had all the time to manage the fire.  Not efficient. I like my gas generator.  The place has warmed up with the propane. I’ve got to deal with the drafts. Maybe I need weather stripping. I’m such a suck for warm.  

I’ve never been keen on being nude except in water. I love the backwoods nude hotsprings and being nude with lovers especially in the woods.  Mosquitos are never featured in Hollywood.  Bugs and snakes make tents much more desirable. Inside I’m not into nude. I think balls limit the enjoyment of walking about without pants of some kind.  I sometimes envy women the inner plumbing. Nothing like a zipper malfunction to make one appreciate the limits to external works. 

In my life time I’ve concluded the best clothing options are sailing shorts, khaki short shorts with rips and paint stains. No need for underwear. Just wash the shorts in salt or fresh water.  I went naked while they dried in the tropic trade winds. That was heavenly.  Life on the lamb.  When I was young I lived with one pair of jeans, no underwear camping and white water canoeing. I just washed the jeans and hung them on a tree.  Older I’ve come to like underwear.  It sneaks up on you. 

The other best clothing option was the sarong. It tended to slip off so required adjusting but was socially acceptable.  I suspect I’d have liked the short Roman skirt.  The kilt is fine too.  Minimalism. In Canada I favour light underwear and a t shirt. No big bulky Stanfields. The best are the Calvin Klein briefs.  Harley Davidson T-shirts’ are my favourite. I’ve got some of those shorts that have built in underwear and pass for bathing suits but they’re not the same. Plain shorts and t shirts are the best. I like bare legs all year round. I go with sandals as long as I can then move to clogs. I don’t like socks except in hiking boots. I will use sweats but I’d rather be on the couch with shorts and a blanket rather than have sweats.  Aging is all about finding one own’s sweet spot. There’s a security and comfort in my corner of the couch built up with pillows.  Today I’m going to have to go to work without a shower because the hot water isn’t working.  I was in the hot tub last night and even swam laps. I showered then.  I don’t like changes in the rituals.  

In the prairies I had weather stripping on windows and doors to decrease draft but still wore leather slippers because in the winter the floor would be cold. It was cold in Winnipeg. 40 below was normal. This fifth wheel is winterized but wouldn’t survive that. Mobile homes with skirts were crafty and cold. I lived and worked in them for years in the north.  At home in Winnipeg,  I had the furnace but we kept it low and wore clothing, flannels and house coats.  I had electric space heaters. I’d turn the furnace down at night and we’d sleep in the cool, healthy sleeping, then the heater on a timer would come on in the morning and I’d awake in relative warmth.  The electric heater warmed the bedroom and I’d turn up the heater so that by the time I was having breakfast there was warmth in the house. Leaving I’d turn the furnace down low. I still do that here.  Saving precious money heating. 

In England I had a radiator I paid with a meter and because we were poor we saved our shillings and wore layers of clothing.  In the prairies I had a block heater for the car to keep it from freezing over night but eventually got an actual heater that I could start from a remote I kept in the kitchen. Such luxuries.

I loved living in Saipan. The warm tropical night with the breeze from the sea. Inside without air conditioning could be stifling but patio living was heavenly.  Bikinis improve any view too.  Beautiful women, friendly men.  Mostly I miss the sailing.  In Mexico at anchor it could get hot then our air condition was the sails. We’d raise them and put on the autopilot wandering up the coast in the sea of Mexico watching manta rays jumping.  I like the warm.

Now I’ve heat here. The thermostat had read 56 when I got up but now it’s up to 70. 

 Telling a Canadian in winter, they’ll going to burn in hell, isn’t that much of a deterrent.  

Autumn still is beautiful.  The colour of the changing leaves is spectacular.  The trees are drawing inward.   The chill is here.  The snows are just around the corner.  I may have to put some pants on.