Aligning With Nature

In January of 2007, after nearly thirty years of working with the Science Museum of Minnesota, I not only walked away from a memorable job, but I was cutting our household lifeline to health benefits. No more easy six month dental check ups, no more running to the clinic when a persistent cough urged me to make an appointment. Consequently for over two years, Nancy and I have chosen to gamble and participate in the Larger than Life Health Plan.

Formally, we are covered under a catastrophic health insurance plan—more formally known as a High Deductible Health Plan. This plan lowers overall medical costs by providing a lower monthly premium in exchange for a higher annual health insurance deductible. We pay out-of-pocket for most medical bills until the total of payments reaches the amount of our annual deductible of approximately $11,000.

The high deductible insurance we purchased is intended to protect us in the event of costly and catastrophic health services. You know like stitches or an ankle wrap.

Though we are sitting North of 60°, in the evil den of socialist Canada, more than 2000 miles north of our home in Minnesota, we are not closed off from the loud southerly ruckus debating health care in the USA. The discussion mostly frustrates and infuriates me, as the debate seems to fall in line with the usual bipartisanship whining. And through all the discussion of “becoming Europeanized or socialized” we, the supposedly greatest nation in the world, continue our unhealthy ranking of #37 in health care among all the countries in the world.

I wondered if the problem lies in the fact that our North American culture has become beset with insecurity. Or at least the machine of consumption would like you to believe that you are a pathetic and insecure mass of protoplasm and could break out of that dismal form if you only used their products. So in our depression and eternal chase for ‘beauty and success’ we keep eating and buying stuff.

Could it be that our unhealthy ranking is largely due to unhealthy practices? In a recent Op-Ed piece published in the New York Times, author Michael Pollan reported, “according to the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention, three-quarters of health care spending now goes to treat “preventable chronic diseases.” Not all of these diseases are linked to diet — there’s smoking, for instance — but many, if not most, of them are.

We’re spending $147 billion to treat obesity, $116 billion to treat diabetes, and hundreds of billions more to treat cardiovascular disease and the many types of cancer that have been linked to the so-called Western diet. One recent study estimated that 30 percent of the increase in health care spending over the past 20 years could be attributed to the soaring rate of obesity, a condition that now accounts for nearly a tenth of all spending on health care.” For the full editorial go to:

It has been far too long since I have put words on paper. Okay so it’s not paper. I confess I am a flaming romantic and I prefer the idea of “putting the pen to the paper” rather than typing at a computer keyboard. I am only writing now because the dark morning clouds overhead seem far too heavy with rain for me to work outside.

For three weeks I have been working on the roof of the Outpost. It has literally become my ‘other room.’ The original project was to have been much simpler than it has become. The original goal was to tear off 30-year old shingles, remove the thin plywood roof decking, reinsulate the roof with a low density foam and blown in cellulose, sheath it with new sheets of OSB, and reshingle with Aged Redwood asphalt shingles. Simple. . . well kind of . . . at least straightforward.

However the last three weeks have often been punctuated with rain and overcast skies. These are not good conditions when you have already torn off shingles and now have a mosaic roof covered in a patchwork quilt of various colored tarps. But the big surprise came when I tore off the ridge vent and exposed the rafter tips. It was as if two continental plates had met here. The peaks of the rafters rose up and some dipped down, others were left and the remaining were right. Sighting down the range of rafters betrayed an undisciplined row of peaks. No straight line here. They were off by 4-5 inches!!

Suddenly the project has become a Project. I learned that the builder of the Outpost had set these rafters in late November thirty years ago when the temperatures hovered around -25° C. Consequently, a job that demands focus and precision was compromised and hurried by the bitter cold.

When I made the horrific discovery, I was torn as to whether I should throw myself into the river or sit down and cry. Clearly, I was in over my head and I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t sleep well that night and the next morning I called two dear Yukon friends, Mike and Dave who happen to be excellent builders who are truly both craftsmen. They are likely the top timber frame builders in the territory.

Together they came to the rescue. Dave, who lives only five miles away, came first to assess things. He sighted down the rafters and uttered a low rumbling that sounded to me like “Holy F..k!” Then he began to laugh and quickly apologized for laughing. “Sorry Tom but I’ve never seen anything like this. I really should get a picture of this.” His words were not comforting.

After a half hour of looking things over, mumbling and head shaking, we climbed down, each cracked a Lead Dog Ale and sat at the kitchen table discussing options. He called his partner Mike. “Hey Mike, we have to help our good friend Tom here.” In the next five minutes a plan of action was formulated.

In order to accommodate the skewed rafters, it was decided that we would strap the rooftop with 2x4s fastened two foot on center and perpendicular to the rafters. These would be shimmed with what turned out to be ridiculous sandwiches of lumber pieces, plywood and even shingle fragments in order to create a level nailing surface to lay down the new roof deck. The new plan is to complete a portion of the roof and then in the spring finish the job on the four small steep pitches.

Oh and did I mention that we are heading back to Minnesota on Sept. 24th, the day that our new renters move in? With all the rain and the immensity of the impending Project, I felt the anvil of pressure growing on my shoulders.

While the passage of seasons is often described in such terms as miracles. It is nothing compared to the miracle of community in action.What has happened in the past week has been remarkable. Dear friends, Mike, Andrew, Claire, Al, Clare, Neighbor Mike and Gerry have shown up with tools and tool belts, ladders, pots of hot homemade soup, cookies, bars, curried lentils and rice and a willingness, in fact, a dose of cheerfulness and sharing has been rampant.

Nancy is quick to tell me that she is not surprised as I have invested great amounts of “social capital” during out Yukon experience. I enjoy getting to know people and I have a reputation as a talkaholic. True, I have helped some of these friends out with various tasks of their own. Clearly this is a classic example of “what goes around, comes around.”

So even though I haven’t been able to hike the yellowing mountains or push a canoe onto Bennett to try for a lake trout, I have been getting a workout. Repeatedly I have been climbing up and down the ladder with heavy bundles of shingles, lumber, tools and tarps. I have new aches, no hint of a roll around this belly and my finger tips are sore. But every once in a while I remember to pause while high on the top of my house and look upriver. The river is never tired and it inspires me. The view is great from atop the Outpost. And the gathering of friends is balm for any frustration and ache.

Skies are lightening. It’s time to get to work.