My Cold Farewell

Saturday was my last day as a volunteer at Living History Farms. I expected it to be rather bittersweet, but I was mostly relieved by the time the morning was over.

It was so, so cold. The sun was hidden by clouds and there was a bit of a breeze. I think the thermometer in my car said it was 37 degrees.

Under my homely 1875's period costume, I had 2 skirts, a pair of pants, and an extra shirt. I didn't figure I could sew a hat with mittens on, and gloves didn't really exist yet. (In Iowa, anyway.)

I opened the Millinery and got out my hat. Laura, the site supervisor, came in and told me that she was going to start me a fire in the wood burning stove. I was elated. (You would have been too if you felt how cold it was in there.) Laura took me over to the print shop to get some kerosene rags.

The lady in the print shop was super, super grouchy. I was kind of afraid of her. I reminded myself I would not be coming back to get any kerosene rags from her, so I should probably be OK.

Laura and I, kerosene rags in hand, went back to the millinery, where she showed me how to start a fire in an old-timey wood burning stove. The idea was for me to start a fire in the stove in the front room after the back room got warm enough. I was skeptical, at best, that this would work.

Laura left, and her parting words were, "Check it every 15 minutes to make sure you don't need to add more wood."

Since I didn't have a watch, I think it was somewhere between 45 minutes to an hour before I checked the stove. By then, the fire had mostly gone out. I stuffed some wood in there and opened the bottom door and, somehow, the fire took again.

My fingers were white at this point. I mean they're normally white, but they were actually bedsheet white I was so cold.

I monitored the fire a little bit more closely, and then I decided I'd better start the fire in the front room.

I'll spare you the description and just shorten it down to three words: It didn't work.

Actually, in all the commotion I wound up killing the fire in the back room, too. And it was only 12:00! I sat there in shivery desolation (there were hardly any visitors to the Farms, but then it was pretty cold) for another hour and a half.

Then I couldn't take it anymore. I changed my clothes, put on REAL socks!!!, and turned my ugly dress in to Period Clothing. (Laura said it would be waiting for me next year but, as we'll be in Dallas, I never have to wear that dowdy thing again. Even if I did get to come back, I'd beg on my knees to have a different dress.)

But even though my dress was ugly and the last two weeks were cold, I'd do the whole thing again in a hearbeat. :)