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It's fun to work in the winter, I like it anyway.

So, there's an empty house up for rehab. For some reason the house is colder inside, than the outside temp. Let the work begin.

After finding the reason the furnace was not heating, and replacing said furnace, then beginning to work on the frozen plumbing (yes the toilet was even solid ice, botht he bowl and the tank -- try taking a piss on a block of ice once, just don't stand directly in front of it), we are into day two or three. By this time, it's just cold. We can't turn on the heat yet, we need to warm up the house through other means, and it's easiest to remove all cracked plumbing you can find, before you thaw it.

One finally gives in and the shivers begin to get you. Yes, thermal socks are good, and wearing real winter work gloves helps. I can't move like I need to in my blanket lined duck coat, so I drop that, leaving my t-shirt, collared shirt and a sweater to protect me.

After many complaints, I rally the troops. The warm is sort of designed for the old people, that's why they go down south. Here, in the Norselands, it's an honor to freeze to death. It is why Warriors are born. The weak cuddle together in blankets and gather round a space heater indoors, while we work to replace a furnace or repair electrical problems. We are the protectors and the bringers-of-warmth.

Way at the back, someone, soon-to-be-named Ephialtes, asks, "Yes, but can't we turn on this 50K BTU torpedo heater, we need to raise the temp anyway before we start the furnace."

The smell of kerosene, the click of an ignitor and starting of a fan... Cheers and everyone's happy. Except me. I like working in the cold.

With my mighty pipe wrench in my gloved hand, I point to him, "You, Ephialtes, I hope you're warm forever."

wink