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Sunday, February 27, 2005 |
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This morning we awoke to a chill the bedroom space heater could not put a dent in, and finally, after dribbling out a page of ugly teenage nostalgia, we accepted defeat and moved our base of operations to the even colder downstairs, where there at least are stoves to burn wood in. I made a roaring blaze in the smaller stove, in the back room. When it was good and hot--two wedges of juniper, one chunk of precious pine from the dwindling hoard--I closed the dampers, and it's burned solidly for close to 45 minutes, and still I shiver in my blanket. This proves the unwisdom of permitting the walls to go cold. It could be afternoon before we find comfortable equilibrium. The houseplants have taken note of the lengthening days and respond with enthusiasm. All the begonias are in bloom, even the massive rex ones in the dim bathroom have uttered tiny inflorescences with weird twisted stamens we may examine closely during contemplative moments there. The spider plant is a riot of fireworks; the snake plant lengthens flatly upward and makes doubles of itself. The specimen in the five-gallon pot on the dark shelf, an unknown species left behind by the exhousemate because it was enfeebled by rot, threatens now to take over the north end of the house. I suppose I should do some research into its identity. It seems to be some kind of rain forest cactus. More juniper into the stove. Rain expected. I suppose I must split some wood if we're to keep the walls warm this week. Not to mention us. 10:01:15 AM  comment []
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