Happy First Day of Spring!

As you can see, Spring looks a little different here than some places. Quite a few places, actually.  Today is a bright, sunshiny day, temperatures in the low 20's---with a sustained wind of 22 mph.  Maybe that doesn't sound like much, but when it's this chilly, that wind makes a BIG difference.

So instead of celebrating the first day of spring with a cracking good cross-country ski, I'll be getting my exercise from a boring old video while I wait for the next snow storm to hit.

The snow piles in my driveway, with the wind whistling over the top.

The street in front of my parents' house.

Here's a little bonus picture for you. There is a huge herd of deer that is wintering south of Westby. They stayed further out in the fields earlier in the winter, but now that the snow is deep and the forage is sparse, they are coming in close and eating from hay bales left sitting around.

I think the deer around here are super-cute. I've already told Caleb that my next project is going to be a deer rescue---a nice, big heated barn, plenty of food, and a deer-sized pet door for them to go in and out during the winter!

I Fell for a "Work-at Home" Scam

You'd think I'd know better. I mean, everyone knows those "Earn hundreds of dollars stuffing envelopes in your home" type things are fake. But this one seemed so good I decided to go for it. "Easy assembly!" "You can do it in your spare time!" "Loads of fun!" "Promotes world peace and the re-growth of hair!" "Will add years to your life!" How could I refuse? So I signed up.

Besides, my own sister was the one promoting it, and I trust her.

At least I DID.....

The job was constructing "jumpers", lengths of cable for hooking up satellite systems to the TV. Part of what my brother-in-law, Jack, does to fill his time is installing the TV systems for the many man camps springing up in the oil fields. Evidently, the modern "toughneck", as the oil worker is called out here, cannot work without his personal, operational TV. Wiring a man camp for satellite is considered a vital part of the construction, somewhere up there with having functional toilets.

Noni is the one who usually helps out with the jumpers, but for some reason, she found herself unable to do this job. Oh, she was disappointed---you could see that---but she managed to gain control of emotions and hand over all of the supplies to my mom (yes, she even scammed her own mother!).

The first step to making jumpers is having an explosion of cable, tools, and other parts in your previously clean living room. After "seasoning" the room with the appropriate level of debris, you are ready to begin the actual construction process. Jumpers are made by cutting a specified length of cable (one short and one long one make a pair) with wire cutters. Then you take a special wire stripper that clears a length of cable to the right shape and length. After that, you  bend all the little fibrous wire back from the main copper wire; this is important, because if even one of the tiny, hair-like wires touches the copper, you will short out that room's entire electrical system. The next step is to slip a cap over the cable...supposedly. In real life, it almost never "slips" and has to be forced on using a special tool and lots of brute strength (you will soon find brute strength in very short supply). All you have left to do now is crimp the ends using the crimper. That part at least is easy.

There, you have made your first jumper.

And it only took twenty minutes.

And you only have 429 more to do. That number is not hyperbole. That is the actual amount that we need to make to finish this man camp. This number doesn't count all the miscellaneous cables connecting the dish to the sectional panels, panels to sections, etc. Unfortunately for me, these will have to be made on-site, and I will be unable to help out. Forgive me while I pause to mourn.

My mom spent all afternoon working on jumpers, and then when I came home, I helped out for a couple hours. Through our combined efforts we managed to get 60 pairs done. Our hands were killing us. Did I say hands? They were more like deformed claws.

Personally, I am beginning to doubt the sincerity of Noni's grief at not being able to do this herself. Maybe that's why she was dancing that little jig after she handed over all the stuff....

The pitiful fruits of our efforts.