Last post, I listed the tools we have collected to address life here in the country on our “farm.” I’m not sure we can call it a farm, of course, but you know what I mean. This week, I’ll share some of the issues we face. For example, right now, we have no hot water.

Our hot-water system is called “tankless,” a method chosen by the architect of this house eight years ago under the assumption that we wouldn’t be living here full time. Why expend energy to keep water hot under the circumstances? Yeah, well. Let’s be honest. Larry didn’t actually believe we would be living here, so.

I’ve attempted to understand why our system is called tankless, when, there in the garage, is a little tank attached to the wall which somehow sends hot water through the pipes on demand. Never mind. Ours doesn’t work. We called Evenflo, and soon Josh came to assess the damage. We need a new one. Evenflo has them available, and he could install one the following Monday.

It had already been a couple of days, and we decided to spend some of our Marriott points on a hotel room in town. Relax. Go out to eat. Take a shower. A little mini vacation. Sweet.

Monday came. Josh came. The new system was installed. Didn’t work. The system was fuelled by natural gas. Which we don’t have. We have propane. This is the country.

There’s a converter piece, which Evenflo could obtain for us overnight. Overnight came and went. The converter didn’t. As we speak, it is now Day 8, and Josh is expected sometime this morning with the missing piece. We’ll see. I’ll let you know.

But hey, we know how to deal. The washing machine runs on cold water. You can heat water on the stove for washing dishes. A little story: Recently our family was here for the holiday. One of the grandsons who currently lives in his own apartment was curious about the set-up in our sink. “That’s so cool. What is that?”

“It’s called a dish pan.”

“Oh. Awesome. Then you don’t have to just run water to rinse off the plates and stuff before they go in the dishwasher?” Okay, I thought it was funny, but listen, that’s the kid I endlessly bother with questions about my computer. My cell phone. I get it.

None of our tools (see last week) was able to correct or in any way affect a broken water-heater, but I’m happy to say that Evenflo came through, and, get this, didn’t even charge us — anything — as compensation for all the difficulties. Now that is awesome.

Next: This little guy is a vole. Actually pretty cute. Voles are attracted to yards with lots of vegetation, moisture and cover.  They are small rodents that can quickly populate a yard.  Just ask Larry.

He’s been engaged in warfare with these cute little things ever since we planned a lawn around the house. That we have acres of unseeded grassland on which they might set up housekeeping seems immaterial. So Larry devises methods to attack them. Traps? Yes sure. Poison, but it has to be unaccessible to birds. He will poke holes around the rock walls into which he can stuff poison capsules. Here’s what our lawn looks like:

Did the voles cause that? Who knows? Yes, we’ve had the experts out for an assessment, and they fertilize, spread product, offer advice. It never gets better. We have, apparently, bad soil. But this was sod, laid on top of our bad soil. Doesn’t matter to you-know-who. Voles. Our equipment, detailed earlier, is helpless.

Bad soil, huh? We’re located, technically, on White oak savannah, and the white oak thrives on well-draining, gravelly soil. Maybe, but our acidic clay soil tests very acidic. Larry has a beautiful, beloved garden, which he tills, augments, tends, and we do have bountiful crops of, for example, tomatoes on our hard-packed non-draining, dirt. Soil.

One more little photo and then we’ll move on to the good news:

A sample of our potato crop. Two potatoes. They look like a little family. We’re thinking of giving them names. Yep. Bad, acidic soil? Whatever. We have pounds and pounds of potatoes just like this in a box in the shed. Actually, I took these guys, peeled them, cut them into chunks, then chopped them in the processor to hash, which I’ve now frozen. Home fries for breakfast tomorrow. Finally, a tool to the rescue? My food processor!

Life is good, right?