A Heated Discussion
Through some oversight, the part that was needed for our furnace had never been ordered. I called our service contractor several times since December 1st only to land on voicemail or to be put on hold longer than I wished. I realized during the first week after the last CPR that our furnace was running on borrowed time. For one thing, the sound began to resemble a jet engine, LOUD and fierce.
With the forecast predicting the most horrible cold snap to date this season, with -25 degree wind chills, the motor seized up. Cold outdoors, cold in our house...cold, cold, wind blowing, nasty, nasty, cold.
I asked my family, "has anyone seen my long johns?" I suggested that we all change into our warmest clothes. We were sure to catch a glimpse of Jack Frost, horrible fangs and bad breath.
I placed an immediate call to our heating contractor and spoke with their answering service. "It won't be until morning but he'll get back to you first thing." At what point do we load the car with pets and kids to bunk with my sister? With our furry friends, that did not seem like a do-able option. My sis and her family are not keen with pets.
Instead, we hunkered down while I kept thinking of Laura Ingalls Wilder and the drafty homes built on the prairie. Even without heat in our well insulated home, it was probably still warmer than what the settlers were accustomed to in the dead of winter. Somehow that perspective made me feel a whole lot better about our situation.
As promised, the HVAC service professional called and arrived shortly thereafter. "There's no charge for this service today ma'am. I think someone dropped the ball in ordering your part. You'll just need to hang in there until Tuesday. Give us a chance to have a new motor shipped ASAP."
The contractor instructed how to spray WD40 to keep the parts running in his absence. So we did. Eventually fumes spread throughout our house, invisible to the nose until we set off a spark. It was odd, we wouldn't smell anything and then we'd click on the stove and the place reeked of kerosene. Were we sitting within the gut of an enormous time bomb? I felt a sudden loss of appetite. Ka-boom wasn't worth a bite or two of heated food.
On Sunday morning, no matter how much we sprayed, the motor would not click on. We were sunk. There were wind chill advisories. Sunday night was set for the worst.
We did all that we knew to do. We kept the draperies pulled over the windows, closed off the basement, bought a couple of portable heating units, baked things while counting down the minutes until Monday morning.
We put in a call to the repair man using the direct line he offered. "So sorry to hear about your misfortune, she probably won't come back now. Good luck staying warm tonight."
Through a miracle we tried the heat Sunday evening. Ol' Bessie hacked a few times but kicked on. If our furnace had a voice, it sounded hoarse, as if it were battling a metallic version of laryngitis. It didn't seem safe to keep Bessie running throughout the night, but what could we do? We couldn't freeze and we couldn't leave it on.
So, I woke myself up every two hours to run the heat for ten minutes throughout the night. It was just enough to punch back the chill. By Monday morning I had enough. Sleep deprivation intermixed with being chilled to the center of my being. I was ready to address a shipping box, crawl inside and mail myself to someplace warm....anywhere warm. My fantasy of having an escape hatch was spot on.
I phoned the service contractor just as soon as they opened. I was told they located the part in stock and that they would arrive by 10 a.m. to fix our heating. My eyes welled up with tears. I'd say that my eyelids froze together but in truth, it wasn't that bad. We made it through to the other side, heat was on the way!
Far in the after, I revisited how we must appreciate the little things in life, like a furnace that keeps us warm during extreme temperatures and the many uses of WD40. If all else fails there is always duct tape, but in this case I doubt that my favorite go-to would have done us much good.
Happy Holidays!~
~Trixie Archer
With the forecast predicting the most horrible cold snap to date this season, with -25 degree wind chills, the motor seized up. Cold outdoors, cold in our house...cold, cold, wind blowing, nasty, nasty, cold.
I asked my family, "has anyone seen my long johns?" I suggested that we all change into our warmest clothes. We were sure to catch a glimpse of Jack Frost, horrible fangs and bad breath.
I placed an immediate call to our heating contractor and spoke with their answering service. "It won't be until morning but he'll get back to you first thing." At what point do we load the car with pets and kids to bunk with my sister? With our furry friends, that did not seem like a do-able option. My sis and her family are not keen with pets.
Instead, we hunkered down while I kept thinking of Laura Ingalls Wilder and the drafty homes built on the prairie. Even without heat in our well insulated home, it was probably still warmer than what the settlers were accustomed to in the dead of winter. Somehow that perspective made me feel a whole lot better about our situation.
As promised, the HVAC service professional called and arrived shortly thereafter. "There's no charge for this service today ma'am. I think someone dropped the ball in ordering your part. You'll just need to hang in there until Tuesday. Give us a chance to have a new motor shipped ASAP."
The contractor instructed how to spray WD40 to keep the parts running in his absence. So we did. Eventually fumes spread throughout our house, invisible to the nose until we set off a spark. It was odd, we wouldn't smell anything and then we'd click on the stove and the place reeked of kerosene. Were we sitting within the gut of an enormous time bomb? I felt a sudden loss of appetite. Ka-boom wasn't worth a bite or two of heated food.
On Sunday morning, no matter how much we sprayed, the motor would not click on. We were sunk. There were wind chill advisories. Sunday night was set for the worst.
We did all that we knew to do. We kept the draperies pulled over the windows, closed off the basement, bought a couple of portable heating units, baked things while counting down the minutes until Monday morning.
We put in a call to the repair man using the direct line he offered. "So sorry to hear about your misfortune, she probably won't come back now. Good luck staying warm tonight."
Through a miracle we tried the heat Sunday evening. Ol' Bessie hacked a few times but kicked on. If our furnace had a voice, it sounded hoarse, as if it were battling a metallic version of laryngitis. It didn't seem safe to keep Bessie running throughout the night, but what could we do? We couldn't freeze and we couldn't leave it on.
So, I woke myself up every two hours to run the heat for ten minutes throughout the night. It was just enough to punch back the chill. By Monday morning I had enough. Sleep deprivation intermixed with being chilled to the center of my being. I was ready to address a shipping box, crawl inside and mail myself to someplace warm....anywhere warm. My fantasy of having an escape hatch was spot on.
I phoned the service contractor just as soon as they opened. I was told they located the part in stock and that they would arrive by 10 a.m. to fix our heating. My eyes welled up with tears. I'd say that my eyelids froze together but in truth, it wasn't that bad. We made it through to the other side, heat was on the way!
Far in the after, I revisited how we must appreciate the little things in life, like a furnace that keeps us warm during extreme temperatures and the many uses of WD40. If all else fails there is always duct tape, but in this case I doubt that my favorite go-to would have done us much good.
Happy Holidays!~
~Trixie Archer
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