Arctic Air Batters Artist

The weather turned brutally cold this past week in Dutchess County, New York; an indicator that my husband was soon to depart for Florida. With predictions of temperatures below zero and wind chills in the ridiculous numbers, I knew I needed to address a lurking problem with my car before he left. Over the New Year’s holiday there was one cold day that I couldn’t get my diesel jetta started.

So, I brought the car down to the shop thinking I needed new glow plugs. They couldn’t replicate the problem since the engine was warm (I hate it when they say stuff like that). But, they could see troubles. The intake hose (?) was so clogged air wasn’t getting in to the engine and the diagnostics indicated a bad glow plug harness. Sounded good. “Can you fix it today? My husband’s leaving at 4 am for Orlando.” Because they’re awesome guys and I’m a good customer, they managed to get it done. I hugged Kevin. Didn’t mind the $500 bill. And, miraculously the check engine light that has been on mysteriously for 5 years, was off.

Next morning, the car didn’t start. Aaaaaah. Ten degrees below zero. The third time I tried to turn over the engine, all the lights in the car blinked on and off and the clock reset itself to 12:00. Called the shop and they said, “now you’re describing a battery problem.” I rescheduled my morning appointment for afternoon and called my neighbor for a jump. The car took a few tries, but did fire up. I headed back to the shop. The battery tested fine (it was warm) but it was the battery that came with the car when I bought it in 2002. Okay. How much for a new one? “This is no ordinary battery; it’s massive,” they said. “This is a $200 battery.” They sold it to me for cost at $150 and didn’t charge me for labor. Two hours later I left and made my afternoon appointment. I didn’t hug anyone. The check engine light came back on.

The next morning, Saturday, we were supposed to have gone on a day-long trek through the woods dragging a sled with the cub scouts. Mercifully, it was cancelled due to cold. I was going to try and start that car anyway. I got up to shower and when I turned the faucet, nothing came out. Not even a drop. I groaned. Frozen pipes. The thermometer said 12 below. I called my engineer husband for advice. He was breakfasting (he was probably sitting at an outdoor café table in the sun). Stoke the fire in the wood heater and open the hatch to the attic (where the water pipes run), he suggested.

I also shut the window in the furnace room. It’s been open since another engineer friend came to visit and told us there was no ventilation in our house. I have never understood this. Just seems like a waste of heat to me. And now it seemed ridiculously naïve to have left it open and expose the water tank to 12 DEGREES BELOW ZERO! Also, this cute little Carolina wren has been coming in through that window every day for the last several. When I came home on Friday, he was perched on top of my brand new computer. I chased him into my bedroom and shooed him out an open window.

The water suddenly came on while we were eating breakfast. Yeah! I showered and went out to dare the car. I gave the glow plugs several cycles before turning the engine over. It didn’t fire the first time, but the second time it burped. By the fourth, the engine coughed into life. Yes!

So, in case you’ve been wondering why I haven’t been blogging about art—mine or anyone else’s—this is what I’ve been doing. This morning it’s 20 degrees, a virtual heat wave. It’s snowing at a pretty good clip. I’ll have to face the snow blower later. What do you think the chances are that it will start?