Ammi Midstokke: Russians shower cold, too

Back in the day, I lived in Germany and had a roommate from Estonia. Among teaching me how to make traditional Russian Borscht and other things, she also explained to ad infinitum the benefits of conducting personal hygiene matters in frigid waters.

Because if someone gives you lemons … you take a cold shower in them.

It might appear my column (and life) has become rather a soap opera with a focus on homesteading. It could only be made more interesting if I had some single lumberjack neighbors with moral autonomy, large biceps, and a smidgeon of plumbing experience.

My inbox filled with advice last week. Impressive, considerate, and helpful comments rolled in by people with far more knowledge and common sense than I have.

I did notice a clear trend: Boys told me how I could have done it better/safer/different. Girls told me I was rad and solution-oriented. I needed both varieties, so my heartfelt thanks goes out to each and every one of you.

Since then, I have conversed with no fewer than a dozen plumbers, people who know what PECS is, Bosch representatives, Takagi representatives, my dad, my dad again, then my dad some more. He’s deaf so he just blows up my phone with questions like, “How you like this mountain life now, eh?” I can’t tell for sure, but I think there’s a snicker in there.

What he doesn’t know is that it will probably take me until his next visit to actually source the right supplies – just in time for him to install my new water heater. In May.

I received one letter this week that rather justifiably questioned my choice of a hard life and I had to take a moment to ponder what may appear like misfortune. In my experience, true tragedy has a different taste. It’s loss, broken hearts, and goodbyes we never had time to say. It is knowing our kids have grown up too fast while we worked too much. It is poverty, mass shootings, the death of thousands of endangered antelope, and every Vikings season.

After a plumbing company quoted me $7,140 to replace my $1,000 water heater, I decided this, too, is an opportunity for learning. I did some reading like a grown up, developed a network of friends, gyms, and family with hot water facilities, and ordered myself a swank new unit: 199,000 BTUs of boiling potential, baby!

If that weren’t enough, I Googled some things about PECS pipe and was thrilled to discover it comes in bright colors like red and blue. When girls do plumbing or buy cars, obviously the color heavily influences our purchase choices.

Projects around here are, simply put, not simple. I need to relocate the water heater so it is not quite as close to my delicate, straw bale walls. That requires propane adjustments, new venting, and some cautious planning. The most obvious place for my new infinite supply of gluttonous showers is my root cellar. My solar-fueled batteries live in there, too. If you’re unfamiliar with those, they put off a little hydrogen gas from time to time.

I’m not a chemist but it seems like, one time, something bad happened when some smart people combined hydrogen and flames. And I’m not even smart, so I better be at least careful.

So yes, my dear readers, stuff goes wrong all the time up here. It’s good stuff though. Every time something blows up or melts or gets eaten by varmint, I have an incredible opportunity to learn something I know absolutely nothing about. I suppose it cuts a little into my free time, and some days I might prefer knitting.

The fringe health benefits – purportedly: improved circulation, virility, vodka tolerance, and hacking skills – far outweigh the inconvenience.