This post is coming to you from the Great Frozen North. No, I’m not on vacation.
The furnace is dead.
It was seven degrees colder than usual in the house this morning, which doesn’t sound like a lot, but when you’re struggling to leave the warm cocoon of blankets, it feels like a seventy degree difference.
This will be our third winter in this house, and the furnace conks out every time we get an extreme cold snap, or whatever the seasonal equivalent is. This time, we had the first frost two and a half weeks ago, a little early for the area, and that was what did it.
Luckily-?- the furnace has died so many times that I know how not to freeze while I’m waiting for it to get fixed. Turn on the space heater, do a lot of baking or anything that requires using the oven, and move the warm cocoon of blankets with me. I look like a blob of jelly, trundling my way around the house, but I’m warm, and that’s what matters. Whoever invented fingerless gloves should be canonized. I know it’s a long process, but if we start today, it might finish up about the time the furnace is working again.
But wait- it gets better. According to the second HVAC crew who’s looked at it, the whole system was installed incorrectly, in such a way that it’s usable, but the airflow into the furnace is greatly restricted, forcing it to work harder and overheat. It’s also liable to drip any condensation onto the circuit board. Zap!
There’s a temporary fix for all of this- one that does not involve stringing up the installers by their toenails- and with any luck, I can eventually persuade the landlord to undertake the permanent fix of removing the furnace, flipping it around so it’s oriented correctly, and reinstalling it. It’s a big job, and probably not cheap, but it beats being without heat for two or three weeks every winter because the system keeps burning itself out.
So that’s my adventure for the past couple of weeks. How’s your life treating you?