Don’t be fooled by this beautiful winter wonderland… it comes with a price… an icy, biting price. Yesterday morning I awoke to -17 ºC.
Think about that for a second… -17 ºC (that’s 1ºF in American), there is no proper way to explain -17 ºC other than to say, it’s freaking freezing. 17 below freezing to be exact.
While Le Petit Village is already high up there, as we sit perched atop the Luberon, my house sits on one of the highest points in the village. It’s a mistral sweet spot. It’s no accident that I’m surrounded by the ruins of old windmills… it’s been windy here forever.
The Mistral blows from the north, and guess which way my house faces? Yep, north. So basically, the front of my house, and the pipes, are directly in it’s ferocious, icy, biting wake.
And while I have been super diligent in leaving the tap dripping through the night, I made the stupidest mistake ever and turned the tap off yesterday morning (obviously by accident). And sometime, between 6:30am and 7:30am, the pipes froze. One hour was all it took. So outside into that harsh winter wonderland (wonderland shmonderland) I had to go, all bundled up with my trusty hairdryer in hand and went to work. It took me three separate battles to finally get the pipes defrosted. Because twenty minutes crouched outside as the freezing mistral spat at me, was all I could take at a time. But I persevered and emerged victorious.
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