65 Degrees

65 Degrees Fahrenheit, February 18, 2017 in northern NJ.  Earlier in the same week, it was 25 and the wind came whipping down the lane at 55 miles per hour. A massive maple tree belonging to the neighbor dropped into the street, and the top came crashing into our front yard.  The power lines came down and we went dark.

I came home from work several hours later and found that the town had cleared the street.  They clear curb to curb and leave that which falls into the yard exactly were it fell.  The burley men of the utility company were out in force. It was 25 degrees and the wind was whipping.  These are my celebrated burley men, they get things done when they need be done. Firemen, Servicemen, utility workers.  Men who are not afraid that they might be called men.  They worked long into the night and our power was restored about 15  hours after it went out.  A fire in the fireplace stove kept us warm.
My wife and I stayed home even as we saw neighbors going off to hotels or friends homes to get out of the chilling home.  We had a prior experience one March that lasted 6 days, so we were not too fearful . We could make due with battery powered lanterns and flashlights, blankets and sweatshirts and early to bed  under the covers. Our younger neighbors would deny themselves the adventure and would watch big screen televisions at the hotel.  We would make grilled cheese and soup on the stove as they called room service..

The morning brought sun and we saw what all had to be done.  I thought to myself that come Saturday of Presidents Day weekend that I too could play burley man and cut up the remains of the tree laying in my yard. Or I could hire someone to do it for me.  A quick call to a local tree guy gave me a price that sounded rich to me.  My wife , of course said that half the price would have sounded rich to me.  But with yet another in a seemingly endless series of tuition bills due shortly, I opted against the hire.

 Come Saturday, I found myself with lopers and chainsaw outside, the weather was sublime. .  I worked hard at it for a day and succeeded in cutting and clipping and cleaning.  At the end of the day I found myself tired, sore and barely able to move.  Advancing age has punched my ticket to the burley man club, but I was still able to get it done.  It is with no small measure of pride that I say this.
Cash was intact, or somewhat intact.

Many years back on another Presidents Day Weekend, I found myself on the roof over my den, tearing of the shingles and the decking. Water from melting snow had seeped under the shingles and the decking had rotted.  Water was coming in.  The roof was frozen as the temperature was below freezing.  I spent the entirety of the three day weekend on that roof.  We had two young children, little money  and we did what we had to do.  I climbed down from that roof on the final day with  the job done, my hands swollen and bloodied, cold beyond belief and so sore I had a hard time moving. That experience reminded me that this Presidents Day chore was a walk in the park.  I never forgot that awful feeling of not having the money to pay for the repair and having to do it myself at no small measure of physical discomfort.

But as time is flowing, I am getting the picture that there are not too many of these escapades left and that bothers me.  Old habits die hard.  Doing for yourself is an old habit of old stubborn men.  It was a habit that has served my wife and I well but now it is just a matter of time. For over the years the savings from driveway oil changes and painting projects and not hiring the landscaper have added up to the point that we might actually get to take that rest.


We had a discussion on frugality and we concluded that it was the better course, over years , not easier but better.