Gas troubles

As has been mentioned in previous (recent) posts, it has been rather unpleasantly cold recently. Flint, being the underfunded disaster that it is, is crumbling around us and I regularly drive on roads 6 or 7" under slushy water, evidence of yet another burst water main. (The exciting part is when the city fails to fix the problem and that slush turns to a solid lake of bumpy ice stretching across several lanes of roads.) There is a section of piping under our street that bursts every winter so it was really only a matter of time. So I wasn't too surprised to see the deep slush surrounding a geyser of bubbling water about eight houses down from us. The water ran unchecked for about a week and, finally, I saw the city trucks down there, with various workers doing who knows what in a giant, 8 foot deep hole. By the time I got home from work that night, the workers and trucks were gone, and the hole was patched up. Naturally enough, a few days later the asphalt patching started sinking, a sure sign of the problem not being fixed. About a week later, we had a giant hole filled with burbling water. Then, a few days later (this was last week), more patching appeared. (All of this is a repeat of last year, when a main broke in exactly that same spot and the city spent at least 3 months patching and repatching, making the whole bigger each time. By the time they were finished, they had removed a giant maple tree that had been growing in front of a neighbor's house along with about 10' strip of front yard, sidewalk and curb.) Then early this week, hoardes of Consumers Energy trucks appeared, with lights flashing, all down the street. I only saw them early in the morning when I took either Thomas or Frederick to school, or in the early evening when we were coming home or going to the FIM. They were there every day, slowly working their way closer to our house. Thursday they were working on the house right across from us, and on one two or three houses down the way. None the wiser, I was relieved that we were not having whatever problems seemed to be plaguing everyone else. Then, with temps about 15 below freezing, I noticed that we didn't have any hot water, no central heating and the stove didn't work. Since we have a history of battling an unreliable oven igniter, our central heating thermostat, and stories of Flint water ruining plumbing and water heaters abound, I assumed that we were just experiencing the cumulative effects of living in a house with damaged and unreliable appliances. By dinner time, with still no heating, hot water or any way to cook/bake anything, we were getting pretty snappish. [Simon adds snarkily, "Yes, WE were.] I walked down the street (because no one else was willing to get off their ass) to talk to one consumers energy worker. He insisted that their repairs did not involve shutting off gas lines. He suggested I put a work order in to Consumers Energy and tell them that we had a broken meter. Slightly mystified but too cold to argue, I went back and called in. They guy I talked to listened very politely, repeated back everything I told him, and then said, "So you are saying you smell gas." No, I didn't say anything of the kind. "I'm going to put in a work order for a suspected gas leak and workers will be there within an hour." He then bid me good day and hung up. About 30 minutes later two ladies in giant padded neon Consumers Energy coveralls (who had been working just 5 houses down) arrived to check for a leak. Of course they didn't find one, but they were very sympathetic to our troubles. They then said they would "check outside." We heard nothing for a few minutes and then heard clanging, banging and arguing just outside our front window. A few minutes later they came back, told us they'd replaced our meter and explained the problem: Flint city workers, when "fixing" the water mains down the street, had failed to completely seal the pipe(s) and leaking water had entered the gas line (are they porous?), the water froze, and now everyone on our street is having problems with their gas lines. After installing the meter they lit all the pilots and told us to "bleed out" our gas lines by leaving all our burners and oven on for a while. I don't understand what a new meter got us, but there you go. All that mattered is that we were back in business. Here is the new meter, which looks a lot like the old one: Since the drama of Thursday evening, we have lost gas service four times that I know of. Simon has gotten fairly adept at lighting pilots. It's most tedious when you start cooking something, set a timer, and then go off to do something else (like WORK!) and then find that the gas has gone out in the middle of the cooking process, leaving your noodles a tepid sludge. I have also spent 26 minutes trying to cook a soft-boiled egg. Since the ladies were working all day yesterday and are still at it this morning, it seems reasonable to conclude that the battle between the city and utilities company continues. Perhaps this is new norm.

Just not getting warmer

The picture is blurry because I took it while driving (Thomas to school this morning). Brrr.

Fish Hospital

Things took a turn for the dramatic a few days ago. But before I go into those details, I'll have to provide a bit of back story. Many years ago, we had an outdoor pond teaming with life: plants and fish, and an occasional frog. Then the ducks moved in and now that "pond" is really just a large toilet. We managed to save one fish, a small Shubunkin named Wilber. We took Wilber in one winter and he never went back outside. At first he lived in Frederick's room but after the third event involving stuffed marine animals being submerged in the tank (and a live marine animal bouncing onto the floor), we decided to move Wilber into the sunroom where we could better police playtime. That was a few years ago and ever since Simon has bemoaned his existence, claiming that he is "lonely." Finally fed up with this whining, I went to Petco last week and not only bought another Shubunkin (Milton) but also a plecostomus (Finster). Wilber seemed excited (though shy) with his tank makes and I was more than a little excited to see Finster get to work on the algae that grew in Wilber's and Milton's house. All seemed well. Then, three days ago, I noticed that Wilber seemed a bit sluggish and spent most of his time hiding in the basement of his house. I didn't have time to really think about it much and attributed it to him having too much of a wild time the night before. Then, the next day, there he was on his side--glassy eyed--on the bottom of the tank. As I scooped him out, I noticed he didn't have any fins--not a good look for a fish. My first thought was Finster, who was clearly an eating machine. I googled to see if plecostomuses ate other fish and the opinion is divided; some insist that they will never eat living fish but will feed on a dead fish; some claim that they will--in desperation--start eating a living fish if they have nothing else to eat (This didn't seem to apply since I had NEVER cleaned the tank and there was ample algae to feed Finster for many, many weeks--he would indeed have to be VERY VERY piggish to need more food than was on offer.); the final view was that, though plecostomuses did not AS A RULE eat other fish, there are some "rogue" ones out there, who are bastards to the core and will eat living fish just because they can. I felt a sense of grim forboding ("Was Finster just such a rogue fish?" The advice was "Do not attempt to rehabilitate--rehoming is the only solution!") Milton, the remaining Shubunkin, seemed happy enough--and entirely uninjured--and Wilber WAS many years old....Then the next day I noticed that Milton was missing a substantial chunk of fin, had a plecostomus-sized and shaped scrape on his cheek, and was sinking to the bottom of the tank, floundering about, trying to stay upright. All right, I thought, that does it--the plecostomus goes back...or into the toilet. Whichever is easier. Then I saw that he was dead! Finster was covered with white slime, stuck between the glass and the filter. So this fish tank has transformed from Paradise on Earth to a Fishy House of Horrors. I pulled out Milton and threw everything away--including the tank. Milton is now staying in his Fish Hospital (a large jar I boiled and filled with filtered water) on the kitchen counter.

It's been two days and the white slime (which I believe was "fin rot" as some call it) is gone and his fins are almost entirely healed. The scrape patch on this face is still slightly visible.

He is starting to eat again (that first day he just spent his time on the bottom, staring moodily at me whenever I came into the kitchen, muttering, "Kill me. Kill me now") and has a bit of zing in his step. So, given that it looks like he is going to live, I am going to have to invest in a new abode for him. And then Simon will start up with the "You need to get him some friends! He looks LONELY!"

"Extreme Weather and Wind chill"

Apparently that's what we're experiencing today, with weather alerts warning us to stay inside and avoid wind chills of up (down?) to -30 degrees (F).  Frederick is more than happy to comply:

Wind-whipped sledding

Thomas jams with the Frenchies

Our loyal readers may remember that last summer (end of June/early July) Thomas spend 10 days in France (Paris, Lyons and some other places that he won't tell us about), traveling with his fellow FIM honors percussion quartet chaps, Rob (their intrepid leader) and the honors strings quartet and that group's leader. The plan was that these two tiny groups would work with the strings and percussion kids over their on various collaborative pieces. And now, eight months or so later, people from that same school (the Limonest conservatory) are here in Flint, continuing the collaboration. For this trip, they brought all their private percussion students and all jazz musicians. It's been a whirlwind of concerts and rehearsals for Thomas, all of which culminated this past Thursday (for him--for the jazz students/faculty the events continued up through last night) with a 2 hour percussion concert. Playing here are eight French students and seven Flinties (the four honors percussionists plus the best three private percussion students). This piece is for 8 musicians, so Rob doubled up the instruments (two marimbas, two bells kits, two drum sets, two bongos and so forth). The kid on the right of the screen playing the marimba is the Gallic version of Thomas. They are playing exactly the same notes together. This was their closing number, which they had to play twice because the French people in the audience demanded an encore (as they always seem to do--apparently French concerts typically start 2 hours late and extend into the wee hours, always well after midnight). They were told that the building closed at 9 to no avail. Indeed, being told that the building was soon to close only seems to make them get more rebellious.)

[Watch on YouTube, so the side isn't cut off.]

As we headed into the FIM these past two weeks there was always a cluster of French instructors outside enjoying a smoke. Thomas said he wanted to move to France to take up smoking.

More frozen frolics

Weekend rolls around and it's time for walkies in the snow. Saturday's choice was Grand Blanc Commons.

Can you tell I like arty closeups of nature?  Well, enough of that.  Sunday's walk was Seven Lakes:

What made this hole, and the subsequent mess?  A woodpecker?  The poor tree was riddled with them.

It's been in the upper thirties, so the river wasn't frozen.

...but the lake still was (off in the background).

There was a lot of this.  A brisk walk it was NOT.

Somehow Autumn managed to follow Winter...

The Snow Keeps Coming

After months of a snowless winter, we are now being treated to a new 1-3" layer of snow every couple of days. Thomas lost two days of school this week. (He didn't seem to mind. In fact, he was certain Wednesday would be a snow day as well and stayed up the night before until 4 am or so. Was HE disappointed when Simon tried to shake him out of bed less than 3 hours later. Did he learn his lesson? I doubt it.) And it seems likely that there will be more lost days early next week.

Frederick works his gluts and abs by climbing up hillsides in deep drifts of snow.

Imagine sitting up to your hips in ice cream. That's what Frederick experiences when scooping up handfuls of deep, clean, fresh new snow.

I haven't able to find my sunglasses for a few weeks now. I now see where they got to.

When the roads are bad, walk

While some cats enjoy lounging around, there's walks to be taken.

 Of course, one can pause for a rest and a quick snack of snow once in a while.

 The cold hand of the law.

 Frederick is modeling the "greased up for the cold wind" look.

 Another pause to contemplate existence.

 That's "art" apparently.  It must be, because it's in front of the FIA.  If it was in front of one of the old factories it would just be a pile of rusty junk.

 Storm Ready my arse.  If we're so storm ready, why is the university closed?

Lots of white stuff

Got plenty of snow dumped on us (it's always "dumped" on the weather reports. Seems so indelicate) last night. Here's the back yard:

Here's opening the side door:

The mailbox always has a quaint pile:

Before an hour of drive-shovelling:

...and after, at which point I'm always wondering why we don't just park in the front yard:

The birdbath is also quaintly piled:

First Proper Snow Day

The snow is coming down steadily, so that means a walk to my office makes perfect sense! Here we are, setting out, wrapped up warm:

Mott campus is about half way between us and the university. Would we make it all the way?

Almost there and Frederick wondered what would happen if he dropped his gloves off the bridge over the 475 Freeway.  This, is the answer:

Back at home and the wood on the porch is getting snowed under.  Unfortunately it doesn't affect us because our chimney is BLOCKED and NOBODY WILL COME AND UNBLOCK IT.  At least before Feb. 11th.  I'm having serious fire withdrawal.

The ducks, however, are quite happy, as the vent for our central heating comes out next to their little straw-bale fort and keeps them snug. So the more we have to run it, the happier they are.

Both the university and Thomas's school have already announced they're closed tomorrow. A sledding day, I think.