Fire

I've been around fire for much of my life. As a child, I had horrible, waking nightmares about fire. In one, I "woke" to find the desk next to my bed covered in glowing coals, steaming and smoking. In another, I looked around to see my room in flames, jumped out of bed and opened the door to see the hallway engulfed in flames. Both times, I started screaming that the house was on fire, causing my poor father to leap out of bed and charge past me down the hallway. Upon fully waking, nothing was amiss. The worst however, was the time I opened my eyes to see to severed hands floating above my bed. In one hand was a box of matches, the other, a wooden match. The second hand struck the match on the side of the box, and dropped the match in my bed. I can still see that in my minds eye, like it happened yesterday.

While my subconscious is apparently terrified of fire, I consciously have no fear, just respect. In fact, I've found myself drawn to fire. So much so I volunteered to become a firefighter back in 1986 when Cindy and I lived in Cortland. When we moved to Binghamton in 1988, I joined Prospect Terrace Fire Department, and have been a member ever since. Through training and on calls I've been in several building fires. It's quite an experience. First, despite the protective gear, it's much hotter than you might think. Also, it's very difficult to see, with the smoke and steam. The fire is often just a dull glow, not at all like the dramatic flames Hollywood likes to show. It can be very claustrophobic, and that is probably the number one cause of potential firefighters washing out. It is very unnerving to be in a dangerous environment with one of of your primary senses (sight) removed. In fact, when we train new firefighters, we will often put wax paper in their mask, or make them put their hood on backwards so they learn how to find their way on touch alone (though heavy gloves).

FDNY

This brings us to the horrible tragedy in New York City, where a firefighter perished. They were conducting an interior attack on a fire when the call came in to pullout. Somehow Michael Davidson became separated from the rest of his crew and was lost. Despite the imminent danger of collapse and a raging fire, his fellow firefighters went back in to find him. The pulled him out, but it was too late. He left behind a wife and four children under the age of 7.

Of course, FDNY handled this horrible loss with a sad dignity. They stood at solemn attention as their fallen brother was transported from the fire, to the hospital, to the funeral home. Once he was recovered, FF Davidson was never left alone, a brother or sister always at his side as he rested. Likewise, his young widow is accompanied everywhere by FDNY escorts.

Meanwhile, his engine, Engine 69, is taken out of service as brother and sister firefighters spend hours scrubing the hard working rig that will be Michael Davidson's final ride. The Emerald Society, FDNY's Pipes and Drums band played it's mournful tunes. It is overwhelmingly sad. The hardest men and women I have ever met, are reduced to tears, yet they remain at attention, saluting their fallen brother, with the same courage and fortitude with which they attack fire. Stronger and better people do not exist, yet they will downplay their role, their heroism. Immediately after the burial, many quickly return to their station, and await the bells which will send them off to their next call. No break given, none expected.

Make no mistake, these men and women are true hero's, in every sense of the world. As a volunteer firefighter I have a small glimpse of their world, yet I can hardly fathom a career of such danger and loss with over 26,000 annual structure fires (71 a day), and 1,150 firefighters killed in the 153 year history of the department. They have earned and deserve the respect of anyone that lives or visits New York City. If something goes wrong, no worries, they have your back and they're happy to help.

That is what we should all take from the tragedy: No matter how savage the punch, no matter how vicious the loss, the human spirit, embodied by The FDNY, will prevail. Take heart in that, and hug, or at least shake the hand, of the next firefighter you see. That's all they want.

Travel, hallways, and winter continues...

I tend to write a blog when I feel inspired, or when I've done enough to fill up a page or so. Of course, there are times when I am busy, but whatever I'm doing is just not worthy of interest. It is also somewhat embarrassing how little actual progress I make at times, so there is that too. For today's blog, I think I have enough to write about, and I think I'm inspired enough to make it interesting. We shall see.

Back in 2007, standing on a ridge in the Sierra mountains
with a not so active fire behind me. I got out in time. 

I spent last week out in Idaho, Boise specifically, for an Incident Meteorologist refresher. For those that do not know, I am an IMET (Incident Meteorologist) and get dispatched, primarily to wildfires in the western U.S., to provide specific weather forecasts for the incident. These forecasts are used to help plan the command staff direct operations against the fire in a safe manner. It's a great conference with intensive training and good people. One of the final things we must practice is deploying and getting into a fire shelter in a matter of seconds, always entertaining and interesting as I try to stuff this old, 6' 3" frame into what is essentially a large Zip-Lock bag. I have no doubt that if I were actually about to be overrun by a wildfire, I'd get into that thing amazingly fast.

Boise itself is a beautiful city. Up and coming, active, young and very western. Trendy restaurants seem to be popping up everywhere as the state capital and college town blend with old west sensibility. Fresh air and open spaces make the place invigorating. Keep in mind though, I was there in March, with average highs in the 50's and even a passing shower from time to time. In summer, 100 degrees is not uncommon as the desert-like nature of the place takes over. The natural vegetation, outside of the watered areas, is dead grass and rocks, until you get into the nearby mountains, where cooler air and additional precipitation allows for beautiful evergreens.

Just another March snowstorm.

While I was in Boise, it snowed at home, of course, leaving Cindy to deal with it. March is generally a snowy month in upstate NY, which is really quite cruel. The increased sunlight from the longer days gives you hope, only to have those hopes dashed in yet another storm. The problem is that Canada is still bitter cold, while the southern U.S. begins to warm. This creates a strong temperature gradient on which storms love to build. They also love to track up along the mid Atlantic and northeast coast, which puts Binghamton in a very favorable spot for snow, and lots of it. Luckily for Cindy, that strong March sun helps melt the snow, so she decided not to shovel and allow nature to take it's course. I'd be happy to teach my bride how to operate the snowblower, but the chance of her actually using it are about as low as the chance for a snow free March.

The repaired wall. Still needs a bit of fine sanding and
some primer. 

On the home improvement and remodel front, I've been mainly working in the upstairs hallway, The wall repair job that I wrote extensively about is pretty much done. Just some finishing sanding and the wall will be ready to paint. First of course, will be the ceiling, which is ready to go after repairs and other prep. I've also been working in the bathroom, repairing and painting the window frame and door. The bathroom door had a huge mirror, which I removed months ago. It left behind drill holes, but even worse was that the door had never been painted beneath the mirror. Four coats of thinly applied pair were needed to cover up the ugliness.

We've been using the alarm system I installed after Christmas, with only one false alarm. Cindy accidentally set off the alarm while leaving for work one morning, unfortunately while I was in the shower, This resulted in a sleepy person in California calling and asking for our safe word, and me tracking and dripping water all the way downstairs to turn off the alarm At least we know everything is working. We have three faulty sensors which I need to track down and get advice on from SimpliSafe but the door sensors are working perfectly, which is the main thing.

That's about all I have for now. Hopefully the next blog will document progress in the hallway, and a quick getaway trip to one of our favorite spots.

Back at it

Repaired ceiling. I'm actually getting good at this. Note the
missing molding. 

With the holidays fully behind us, I have little excuse left to keep from diving back into some open projects at the house. Back in the Fall, I started after the upstairs hallway, tearing off the awful molding and some of the fixtures. It remained in that condition through Christmas, and Cindy has been beyond patient with the mess and I really need to get going on that work. First step was to repair the damaged ceiling. There were holes where the multiple smoke detectors and light fixtures hung, and where the cheap molding was attached. Next is  the big job of repairing the plaster wall that has become detached from the lathe backing. I researched the process months ago and had already purchased the needed supplies.

Holes drilled, but wall still bulging out.

I fixed the ceiling pretty quickly and decided I could no longer put off the wall repair. The first step is to drill multiple holes through the plaster in which to pump the construction adhesive. Then, you use drywall screws with big washers to pull the plaster back to the lathe, hoping that the construction adhesive bonds the two back together. This step actually went pretty well, and I pumped damn near an entire tube of adhesive into the wall. Very little oozed back out so it went somewhere, hopefully where it was needed. The drywall screws grabbed the lathe easily.

Drywall screws holding the plaster in place.

After 24 hours, you must remove the screws and hope that the plaster remains attached to the wall. Surprisingly, that's pretty much what happened. The good news is that the plaster is not longer moving back and forth in place, the bad news is that the result is an ugly mess. Some of the plaster chiped, then there are the places where a bit of the construction adhesive sticks to the washers and pulls away the plaster and paint when you remove them. So, the next step is to fill the holes and cracks with a joint compound then I will probably have to (horrors!) skim that entire wall. I've never skimmed a wall, and I'm not looking forward to it, but it is the best way to smooth out an uneven wall surface, and will look best when painted. The results of that will be in an upcoming blog.

The repaired wall. Really. Hole fix and skimming comes next.

Otherwise I did some finishing work in the bathroom. I replaced the old, industrial light fixture in the bathroom ceiling with a new, LED fixture. Of course, the previous installation did not properly install the junction box. It is just "floating" in place above the ceiling, held only by the wiring. The proper way to fix this is to go into the attic and secure the fixture to an attic floor joist. This involves moving our boxed Christmas decorations and removing the attic floor. An "easier" way would be to attach the junction box to a nearby joist, by accessing it through the hole in the bathroom ceiling. but it looks like there is nothing readily available. So, when the weather warms up, attic here I come. Of course, there is blown in insulation between the attic floor and ceiling below so that stuff will get everywhere.

In the world of upstate weather, after a brutally cold stretch in the end of December into January, the end of January and the beginning of February has been fairly benign. Not all that cold and still relatively snow free. I had been thinking that February would turn cold again, but it's been near normal so far, with a real thaw expected in the next week. I still think this winter has another brutal cold stretch in it, and I'm afraid that may mean March now, right when we are rightfully tired of winter and ready for Spring. Good news is that I understand the maple trees are being tapped and sap has begun to run. The first delicious product of Spring cannot be far away!

Cold

We finally got some snow to go with the cold.

It's been really cold lately, record cold in fact, and it reminds me of the kind of cold we had back in the late 1970's. Back then, we had several days in a row below zero, pipes burst, and the old cars we drove in those days didn't start real well. I was just a teenager without responsibilities and enjoyed the brutal cold. Now, I own an old house, for which I am responsible to heat and maintain. Our old house, has been doing just fine, having endured cold winters for a 100 years, except for a poorly conceived addition, in which they built a half bath in an old porch. The plumbing for the bath runs through an unheated crawl space. Not good, especially if the temperatures fall below zero. When we moved in, the pipes were damaged from previous freezes and needed repairs. After they were repaired, I did my best to insulate the pipes and the floor. Last winter was relatively mild, and we had no problems. Over the Holidays, in anticipation of the cold, I shut off the water to the room and sure enough, the pipes froze. Of course, this was just before a big Holiday dinner we were having, and I was at work, so First Brother In Law Randy came to the rescue, and with the help of brother Ed, got the water running. No pipes had burst. If anything, it's gotten colder since and I have the water off. I hope we have no burst pipes. A summer time job will be to wedge myself into that crawl space and properly insulate those pipes and wall.

Katia enjoys the fire.

With the cold, we're close to halfway through our full cord of wood. Almost everyday, if we are home, we build a fire in the fireplace. If I leave Cindy keeps it going, including trips to the garage to stock up on wood. As inefficient as it is, it really does make a difference in keeping the downstairs warm, and it's great to look at. Katia has finally learned to lay on the rug next to the fire to warm up. Tiny little Natasha looks at the fire with interest, but generally wanders away and sleeps the day through up in our chilly bedroom.

We haven't had much snow, but much of what we've had came in two recent storms. A nasty rain, to ice, to snow storm left about half a foot and with some trepidation I went out to start the snow blower. I had started it in the fall, but figured with several below zero nights, it would be difficult. Much to my surprise, it started on the first pull. Off I went to clearing the driveway and walk, along with several of the neighbors sidewalks. One of them returned the favor as I slept off my graveyard shift and cleared mine after additional snow fell. We are lucky to be in a great neighborhood.

On the home improvement front, I installed the home security system we got from SimpliSafe. It was actually quite easy, with the hardware pretty much stick on. The package we got includes motion sensors, glass break sensors, panic button, and door and window alarms, along with two entry keypads and key fobs. I need to purchase a smoke alarm and CO detector. After you install it, the hard part begins. Thanks to living in New York, The Empire State, otherwise known as the Rules & Regulations State, the system has to registered and licensed, which means paperwork and questions. So, while the system is functional, it's turned off until I can get the blessing from the local 911 center.

Christmas Past

Mom passed away several years ago. She fought an epic battle with Alzheimer's Disease and was highly functional for many years after the onset, I think mainly because she was a very smart, college educated woman that for years managed to hold off the ravages of the disease. But of course, she was finally overcome, and declined rather quickly near the end. It was a tragic end to a full life. Dad was beside her throughout the battle, with a patience and fortitude that was truly amazing, but it cost him. By the time we finally convinced him to get help with mom, he had compromised his health. Shortly after mom passed, he had open heart surgery to repair a valve damaged by a blood virus. He must have been ill for years, but forged ahead anyway. No one is tougher. He survived the surgery, despite his age, and recovered his health.

So, what does this have to do with Christmas? Well, dad is now struggling as well. We are getting care for him, but with brother Ed in town for Christmas, us three siblings decided to start looking through the house dad and mom shared for 30 years. There were not too many surprises, mainly the typical accumulation of 50+ years of marriage, with three active children. However, we did find something both unusual, somewhat disconcerting, but yet wonderful. Stuffed in a closet, addressed to Cindy and Dave, was a small pile of Christmas presents. They were completely intact, wrapped, and obviously old. We had stopped exchanging gifts with them many years ago, yet there they were. I hesitated, but with the encouragement of sister Karen, I put them in a big black garbage bag and brought them home.

I brought the bag downstairs and put it on my work bench, not only unsure what to do, but unsure of how to bring the discovery up to Cindy. Of course, there was no way she would miss something that big out of place and the next day she asked me about it. I was still unsure what I wanted to do and just said "you weren't supposed to see that. My mistake.", and left it at that. After a couple more days of indecision, I decided to tell Cindy the story of where the presents came from, and she had the same idea that I had. We would open them on "Russian" (Orthodox) Christmas.

Presents of Christmas Past

I brought the presents up and put them under the tree. They were a bit musty, the wrapping paper slightly yellowed and obviously old. Great care had been taken in wrapping them, and dad had obviously printed the names on the tags, his handwriting unmistakable. Mom may have been past the point of writing comfortably by the time they were prepared. However, her touch, her taste, and her choice were unmistakable in the gifts. It was bittersweet opening the presents, and Mom's presence as we did so, was overwhelming. I haven't felt her so close in a very long time, well before she passed, back to the years when she was herself. The gifts? For me, a beautiful blue sweater from Eddie Bauer. She loved blue, and loved me in blue. I will cherish it. For Cindy, a clothes steamer, perfect for a person that irons her clothes one more time before putting them on in the morning. Mom loved the way Cindy dressed, and admired her choice in clothes. Then, there were three joint gifts. We got fun and funky golf ball topped drink stirrers. Mom and Dad loved happy hour, and knew we both golf. Then, we opened a Santa toy car. We have a hot dog vendor truck that Mom always thought was hilarious. It is one of those cars that drives crazily, bangs into a wall or furniture, backs up, and continues on, all the while yelling "Hot Dogs!!" and playing silly music. This Santa car is the same thing, but with a goofy Santa behind the wheel.

The crystal bowl.

The final gift was a real stunner: A beautiful crystal bowl with a red stained glass trim. It perfectly matches a small plate that we had picked up at an antique show almost 30 years ago. Mom always admired that plate and I have no doubt that she purchased the bowl to match the plate. We were stunned. Cindy cried, I stared off into space, overwhelmed with emotion, desperately missing mom. I hadn't felt like this in years, and started to wonder if I really haven't fully dealt with losing her. Her  presence in the room, and my heart, as we opened these gifts was staggering.

Holiday Season

Tree is up and decorated. Missing the top
ornament though. 

It's never been clear to me whom or what decided that the Holiday Season runs from Thanksgiving to New Years, but I don't have a problem with it. I suspect that it was driven by commercial interests, i.e. retail and shopping, but it has been around for a long time. Certainly it has been so for my entire 50+ year life. I remember early on seeing advertisements on television saying "Seasons Greetings" beginning with Thanksgiving programming. I know many, if not most people, get upset when they see the wrapping paper and Christmas trees showing up in stores in October, but it doesn't bother me and having worked in retail in high school and college, I understand the reasons behind it. Certainly, the retail giants would not put the holiday items out if it didn't make sense and money for them.

For Cindy and I, decorating for Christmas begins just before Thanksgiving. It is early but logistically it works, with both of us at our jobs full time, and it allows us to enjoy a month of time with the house beautifully decorated. We both love the holiday season, and it fits into our more leisurely winter lifestyle. Evening consists of dinner in the living room, with a fire in the fireplace, Christmas tree lights on, village pieces lit up on the mantle. Cozy, peaceful. and bright. A defense shield erected to resist winter's cold and gloom.

In the middle of nowhere. 

We went out to get our tree, a Spruce of course, a week before Thanksgiving. We've been going to the same Christmas tree farm for years. The owner expects to see us before his official opening, but he doesn't seem to mind and is, I think, a bit amused by us. There is a problem though, in that he stopped planting spruce years ago, since fir trees have become more popular. Each year it has gotten tougher to find a tree that we want, and this year we finally struck out. It was sad to tell him on the way out, since we both knew we'd never be back again. After a couple of fails, we began to get nervous that we may not find a spruce. However, I took a recon trip one weekday morning and investigated a tree farm we had visited many years back. I was thrilled to see acres of spruce, nothing but spruce. Cindy and I returned a few days later and found our tree quickly. The farm is a throwback to the old days, with no attendant, at your own risk mud roads, and an honor system for paying, that consisted of a hole in the side of a small barn. You pay what you think the tree is worth. Awesome.

Over a brief Thanksgiving break from work, after decorating the tree, I also put up the outside lights. I'm old school there as well, going with 4 strings of C-9 lights. Not energy efficient at all, but they give off a warm glow that you cannot get with LED lights. I like that you can change out some of the bulbs with twinkle bulbs that give a very random and slow flashing or twinkle to the lights.  I did buy a couple of LED spot lights that I am using to eliminate the side of our house, which is now easily visible from Grand Boulevard since the leaves are off the trees.

Delicious bread. Some light, some dark. 

Also, Cindy and I spent a full day baking Christmas bread, which we will distribute to family. We are still getting used to our new oven and adjusting the temperature, so some of the bread turned out a bit dark, others a bit light. That was somewhat by design, as some like the bread darker, others lighter.

So, while we may be a bit early with things, we are pretty much ready for the holidays. It's nice to just relax and enjoy, and not be a part of the frenzy. We still have some shopping to do, but Cindy and I have really cut down on the gift giving at this point. We really don't need or want all that much, and it really helps keep the spirit of the season while lowering the stress.

Our little spruce

 I love trees. I believe I get this from my father, who also loves trees. During his teen years in the 1940s, dad worked in a cemetery that his father managed, often trimming and pruning trees. In the late 1960s, and early 1970s, into my early teen years, dad planted a couple dozen trees of various types, including a few spruce. He taught me what types of trees are good for various purposes and locations.

Healthy White Spruce

I like extremes. The highest, lowest, fastest...this is the weather guy side of me. I grew up rooting for the strongest thunderstorms and heaviest snowfalls. So, what has the to do with trees, and particularly a spruce tree? Well, the spruce, specifically the white spruce, is an extreme tree. It's a North American native, and lives further north than any other tree. It survives well north of the Arctic Circle in places, and has been known to survive temperatures to -70F (-57C). Another neat thing about the spruce is that it is native to New York, and is common in the Adirondacks. They grow just fine in the Binghamton area, and can be found growing naturally in patches on northern facing slopes in the higher elevations of the area. There are other things to like about spruce trees. They are generally bug and disease free, they grow in almost any soil, require little maintenance, and are, of course, the classic Christmas tree.

So, you would think that this desirable and hardy tree would be readily available for purchase, right?  Ah...no. I couldn't find a local nursery or garden store that had one in stock. You can find Norway Spruce (too droopy), Frasier Fir (too weak), and Blue Spruce (too blue), but none of them are native New Yorkers. This leads to looking online for a tree. But purchasing a tree online is difficult, because you can't see the exact tree you are getting, and it must be shipped, which is both expensive and dangerous (for the tree). Lacking other options, short of stealing one, I forged ahead. What I found on the internet, was a wide variety of options and pricing. I won't bore you with the details but tell you I ended up buying a white spruce for $19.99 plus $10 shipping. There were no details other than it would be potted (good thing), not bare root (bad thing), and would be shipped in 7 to 10 days. Good. Fall is a perfect time to plant and I would still have enough time to plant before winter hit. Purchase completed, I would begin to look for our tree in a couple of weeks. I moved on.

That's about 18" of baby spruce. 

The next day I noticed a small box on our front step. Uh oh. It couldn't be. It was. Inside the box was the cutest little spruce tree you've ever seen. I had purchased a Charlie Brown Christmas tree. After my surprise wore off, like Charlie Brown I immediately fell in love with the little guy and am committed to letting him grow. There were issues though. First, was the weather. Despite their hardy reputation, you do need to take care in transplanting a spruce because it may have been grown in a warmer climate. Fall is the perfect time to plant it, but in typical Binghamton fashion, our near term forecast is for temperatures in the teens at night, with wind. Not exactly normal fall weather. I could keep the poor thing in the basement all winter, and bring it out in the spring, but I wasn't sure that would be good for it either. Bringing it into the warm house could cause it to prematurely bloom, damaging for next year. Looking carefully at the tree, I could see no fresh sprouts so I decided it would most likely be safe outdoors, so I went out to dig a hole in the side yard. I dug the hole about three times as deep as needed, not like I needed that it that deep, but I then removed the rocks and filled it two thirds of the way back up with loose dirt. I put the little spruce in and filled the hole, then watered. I need to put up a post or stake so we don't trample him since just an average snowstorm will bury him.

Can you see the tree? This spruce has

plenty of room to grow. 

If I can do so, I may get a tiny set of lights to decorate our spruce this holiday season, but that's if I can find the tree again, and assuming it's not buried. Anyway, it will be fun watching the tree grow.

On the same subject, but at the other end of the subject are cold hardy palms. There are species of palms that are very resistant to cold and grow without protection as far north as Cape Cod. I believe I can get one to grow in Binghamton, on the south side of my house, with some winter protection. That would give me the most northern most tree, and a southern tree, growing on the same property! I told you I like extremes.

On the home front, we raked and bagged for the third time this fall. An article in the local paper advised that you can simply leave the leaves where they fall, or mulch them, and they will fertilize your lawn. I think we have too many for that, plus I just don't like the look of the sloppy, wet mess on the lawn. I did run over what was left to mulch before I planted the spruce. You can see the result in the above picture.

After discussion with my lovely bride Cindy, we've decided to move our work into the upstairs bathroom for a freshen up. At some point we need to do a complete remodel, but until then we cannot live with the awful paint job, cracked walls, and leaky caulk. So I caulked the tub, repaired the cracks, and have begun to paint. The ceiling is done, and I have the first coat on the wall surrounding the tub and shower. I've been forced to turn the heat up in the house to help dry the paint. Seems to warm for me but Cindy and the cats love it.