Heed Your Instincts

December 20th, 2014

The furnace sounded as though pots of water were boiling at high temperatures. It is a boiler that has two circulating pumps for the two zones of my house—living and sleeping zones. It had been making funny noises for about three weeks. It sits right next to my living room and kitchen, in a small closet. I could not remember ever hearing the boiler making such noises, but perhaps I was imagining it. Perhaps it always had made those noises? Had Bill been alive, we would have talked about it and compared impressions. But when you are living alone, you can only talk to yourself. I thought I would call my furnace company after Christmas and ask them to check it out.

That evening my son called, and I described the problem which seemed to be getting worse. “It sounds like an air bubble in the system,” he said, “call the furnace company.” The noise was so annoying that I decided to take his advice. It was after business hours, so I sent an e-mail, and early the next morning I got a phone call: the tech would be at my house between nine and twelve.

Jon the tech showed up at 10:00 am and spent over three hours diagnosing the problem. It was more than an air bubble. Part of the house was not receiving any heat. The pipes that ran through the attic to the addition were cold, and temperatures that night were expected to be in the 20s. Jon finally tracked down the problem to one of the two circulating pumps; he said it was running backwards. I am still trying to figure that concept out.

Jon went off to the supply store and brought back a new pump. Meanwhile my Memoir Writing Group friends arrived for our annual holiday party. Many kept their coats on because there was no heat, but I had cleaned and decorated the house, and it was very festive.  Jon left at four o’clock with the furnace now running, while the party was in full swing. The bill was $536.28.

I woke up this morning. The furnace was running quietly, bringing the temperature in the house to the daytime setting. Outside the temperature was 22 degrees. Had I not called the furnace company, the pipes in the attic might have frozen.  Next time something seems not right, I will listen to my instincts.

 

 

 

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