It is a brisk 16 degrees as I sit down to write on this Sunday morning. The sun rises over barren trees, frozen ground, and a garden asleep. The chickens are nestled in their house, huddled on the roosts, their warm dinosaur blood keeping them content.  And this old farmhouse is pretty warm. It is a long way from the home I grew up in.

Old houses like this are not known for their insulating properties. In my early childhood, it was COLD come January. Pipes freezing, drafts from old windows, huddling next to an old stove that burned far too much wood for far too little heat. 

At one point I recall there were five woodstoves in (mostly) working order, burning around this place, though probably not all at the same time. For a period in my youth, we didn’t even run the furnace, and hot water pipes were run through the stove, necessitating year round fires. I’m not sure how long that experiment lasted.

I also recall becoming acquainted at a young age with the Lincolnville Volunteer Fire Department, as chimney fires were a bit too common in those early years at Sleepy Hollow.

There was a time when Spring would bring a logging truck, loaded down with lengths of trees, to be dumped in the driveway alongside the Datsun and the yellow Saab 96. My old man would fire up his unreliable old chainsaw and saw them into stove lengths, and then chop them up by hand.

Have I mentioned that I owe my most colorful vocabulary to an early childhood watching my dad try to fix his chainsaw on the barn stoop? He had a way with words.

As I grew older, many of the little drips of money that came into the household were used to update the place — replace windows, add insulation, get to the point where every cold snap didn’t have to involve fighting with frozen pipes.

Family legend mentions breaking the skim of ice in the toilet on January mornings, but that may be hyperbole.

Nearly 55 years after my parents first spotted this place on the top of Sleepy Hollow, this house endures, and is warm against the chill of winter in Lincolnville.

In March 1995, I somehow got roped into spending my spring break in Western Pennsylvania, along the Ohio border. A group of us, mostly semi-strangers, obtained a college van, and spent the week volunteering for Habitat for Humanity, assisting with finishing up a house they were building.

Habitat is an international nonprofit with the goal of providing safe and affordable housing within communities, and depending largely on volunteers. Thankfully, in our case, our college group was met by volunteers who actually knew what they were doing, and put us to work doing the kind of work we were unlikely to screw up — painting, sanding down the mudding. The future owner of the modest home was working alongside us, with her young daughter keeping us entertained.

I was never able to afford Spring Break in some tropical party hub, but I think I had way more fun in that tiny place. And I learned all about the Whiskey Rebellion of the early 1790s. (Washington, Pennsylvania, had a great “Museum in the Streets”.)

Last week, I mentioned my early memories of seeing President Jimmy Carter on TV. Before my article was published, the news came that our 39th president had passed away.

Whatever you might think about President Carter’s time in politics, his time post presidency was pretty cool. President Carter was famous not only for his time being the president of the Free World, but for volunteering with Habitat for Humanity. Along with his wife Rosalynne, they actively worked to fulfill its mission, and he seemed to have practical skills beyond painting and sanding.

In early November, I met with the case managers of Homeworthy, the Midcoast organization committed to ending homelessness in our community. At that time, I was told that no fewer than 50 individuals — and this is just the people actively working with Homeworthy — were facing the winter without housing. A winter in Maine without shelter, beyond a tent, or a car perhaps. 

I don’t know about you, but this makes me queasy.

Who are these people? I don’t know specifics, but I can guarantee you see them every day. They might be caring for you at the hospital, serving you your coffee, bagging your groceries. Unhoused does not mean not working.

Lincolnville’s Community Heart and Soul, approved by our Select Board, incudes this statement regarding housing: “We value reasonably priced housing that fits our rural character, allowing for variety in types and designs, while preserving green space and open land, and is available to workers, families, and seniors.”

A fund has been established by Lincolnville community members to initiate a small affordable housing neighborhood in our town through Habitat for Humanity, to mirror similar projects in other local communities.

Should you be interested, donations can be made to Midcoast Habitat for Humanity, 799 West Street, Rockport, ME 04856, with Lincolnville Affordable Housing in the memo line.

This is a fairly prosperous community, made up of locals, and transplants, and summer folk. But it only works if we ensure that everyone can live here. We need mechanics, and carpenters, and line cooks. We need CNAs and teachers and landscapers. We need all the people who make up a community.

It is cold in this little town on the coast of Maine. Stay warm, have a hot cup of tea… or coffee… or whatever. As always, be kind, and reach out at ceobrien246@gmail.com.

Municipal Calendar

Monday, January 6

School Committee, 6 p.m., LCS

Tuesday, January 7

Library open 3-6 p.m. 208 Main Street

AA Meeting 12:15 p.m., Community Building, 18 Searsmont Road

Thursday, January 9

Conservation Committee, 4 p.m., Town Office

Friday, January 10

AA Meeting 12:15 p.m., Community Building, 18 Searsmont Road

Library open 9-12, 208 Main Street

Saturday, January 11

Library open 9-12, 208 Main Street

Sunday, January 12

United Christian Church, 9:30 a.m. Worship, 18 Searsmont Road

Bayshore Baptist Church, 9:30 a.m. Sunday School, 11:00 worship, 2648 Atlantic Highway