4005 Hands, Furnace

Sunday, January 18, 2015

Is it better for a man to have chosen evil, than to have good imposed upon him?

--A. Burgess, A Clockwork Orange--

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I'm having a weird reaction to hands lately.  Whenever I see hands in a photo, or even more recently in a video, my immediate thought is that there are too many fingers.  Especially if the fingers are spread.   I have to count them to be sure.

So far, in real life, hands remain "normal". 

Something weird going on in my brain?

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I woke up this morning to a very cold house.  I still had power.  I still had gas - the stove worked.  I checked the box and the circuit breakers were on.  I checked the gas bill and I'm paid up.  But BOTH thermostats were dark and unresponsive, and there was nothing coming from the heat vents.

I have two thermostats, one upstairs, one down.  I have two furnaces in the attic, one for upstairs and one for down.  It freaked me out that both were dead.  Both, at once.  Both?

It took me several calls to find someone who would come out and check, but I finally found someone willing to make an emergency call on a Sunday.  A rainy Sunday.

The problem, it turned out, was in the thermostats.  The batteries were dead in both.  Yes, they do run on house current, and I had assumed the batteries were just for backlighting when you need to see the display in the dark, but apparently not.  According to the service guy, the batteries do a lot more, and allowing them to die can burn out the thermostat.  We put new batteries in, and now everything's working.  (Yeah, I was aware the batteries needed replacing, but I couldn't figure out how to open the case.)

"But, both at once?  Both during the night?"

He pointed out that if the upstairs one had gone out first, with the heat coming up the stairs from downstairs, I might not have noticed for a long time.

...Yeah, I did notice the last few baths and showers have been a bit of a shock when I got out.  With the bathroom door closed (to keep a curious Jasper from falling in the tub; he likes to splash water) there was no heat in there.

Lesson - change the batteries in your thermostat occasionally.
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3828 Slammed #2

Monday, March 3, 2014

Second slam:  Back about February 18th I got a call from the fuel oil supplier for the country house saying that they couldn't get up the (300 foot uphill) driveway to deliver to the country house.  I contacted the Hairless Hunk, and he took over.

So this morning I hear from HH.  The oil guy tried to deliver late last week, but (HH just found out) was able to pump only 9 gallons when the intake pipe "overflowed".  Their conclusion is that the tank is still full from the early December delivery.

ACK!

(HH is suspicious of that because he went up and checked, and there's no evidence of overflow.)

Anyway, the country house apparently has no heat, and may not have had heat since, oh, early December, or maybe even before that.  Great.

Lots of possibilities:
The furnace is dead.
The power is out.
The fuel line is clogged.
Who knows.

I told HH there's no panic.  With the below 0 temps they've had almost all winter, if there's any damage, it's already happened.

The thermostat had been set at 50.  I had turned the well pump off, and opened the faucets in the bathtub and the kitchen sink to allow for expansion.  I THINK I had filled all the traps and toilets with antifreeze (but I'm not sure, and even so, who knows how long before it evaporates anyway).  To tell the truth, I had been slightly worried about sewer gas from the septic tank filling the house, and the damn place exploding at the first spark.

So I guess I have to go up there later this week and sort it out.  If there's any damage from frozen pipes, it will be no more than whatever water was sitting in the pipes, and fixing can wait for spring.  I can carry water for my stays.

If there's power, I can have heat while I'm there, because the otherwise defunct old heat pump has electric backup and I can run that.  Costs a fortune, but, well, ya gotta do what ya gotta do.   If the house has already been without heat so long, it won't hurt to just turn it off when I leave.  What more could happen?

If there's no power, I'll stay overnight in a local motel and then just come home.  No way I can do anything about anything until spring if it's anything more than a tripped circuit breaker.

Bad bad bad winter.  Go away.

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Note:  More evidence of my mistrust, according to the electric bill for the country house, it used 564 kwh in December and January, and the bill claims this is an actual reading.  If the furnace was off, all that's running is a dehumidifier in the basement and a refrigerator in the kitchen, and if there's been no heat, I doubt either has been running much.  But those are the same usage numbers as last year.  So either the power was on through December and January, or the electric company is inventing numbers.
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3751 Hot

Thursday, July 18, 2013

A witty saying proves nothing.

--Voltaire--

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Management rarely sees what has been done; they see only what remains to be done.  It's up to you to show them.

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I'm amazed at the number of people who refuse to recognize a diamond in a yellow gold basket setting as a diamond.  They seem to think if it's not in a platinum Tiffany high-prong setting, it can't be a diamond.   Idiots.

Sadly, they do that with people, too.

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I don't particularly want to go to Florida any more.  Compare the Zimmerman verdict to this story:  Twenty years for a warning shot. Those folks ain't got no common sense.

NOTE:  Later update.  I did a bit more research on the warning shot story.  There's another version of events here.  The truth is somewhere, but it does seem that the fault lies in Florida's mandatory  minimum sentencing laws.  If she had actually killed the guy, her sentence would have likely been less, possibly just time served.  Ok, different story, but still doesn't say much for Florida.

By the way, I'm tired of hearing "she used the n-word once twenty years ago".  Uh, no.  I read the actual text of the actual complaint filed by the ex-employee.  I am fully aware that complaints are usually exaggerations, from one viewpoint, but in a civil case they do have to be at least close if you expect the case to be taken seriously.  According to the complaint, in addition to other crap, in a restaurant owned by Ms. Deen and her brother, white employees could come in the front door, but black employees had to use the back door only.  No black employees were allowed to be seen in the dining areas.  White employees could use the customer bathrooms, black employees had to use only the restrooms in the kitchen area, and so on.  The "Plantation-style" wedding dinner Ms. Deen wanted was not 20 years ago.  It was maybe 2 years ago.  And so on.

On the Zimmerman thing, I am also amazed at the number of people who say, "Martin threw the first punch; so Zimmerman had to defend himself."

I'm not aware of it having been asked, but what happened between the time Zimmerman got out of his car, and Martin punching him?  Did Zimmerman walk up alongside him, smile, and say, "Good evening.  I am so-and-so, and I'm on the neighborhood watch, responsible for keeping people here safe.  I'm sorry, but I don't recognize you as a resident.  Do you live here, or are you visiting some people here?" and then walked alongside him a bit.

Yeah, sure.  Given Zimmerman's "They always get away" comment on the 911 call, I doubt it.

I suspect an angry and confrontational Zimmerman stepped in front of a frightened Martin, and tried to keep him from "getting away", frightening him even more.  Did Zimmerman identify himself and his purpose?  I doubt it.  Maybe Martin did throw the first punch, but it's possible if not likely that an emboldened-by-gun Zimmerman pushed or grabbed him first to hold him until the cops came (we have only his version of events).  Martin couldn't turn and run without risking being shot in the back.  He defended himself with the only weapon he had - his fists.

Why didn't Zimmerman shoot to disable?  The shoulder was as close as the heart. 

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A crawl across the TV screen just warned of dangerous heat until 9 pm.  It is now 97 degrees F, at 7:55 pm.  Earlier today, at 4 or 5, I forget, it was over 100 both here and at the country house according to the weather service widgets on my laptop screen.

I barely notice the heat.  I do notice the humidity.  It makes it difficult to breathe.  I don't know what the humidity is.  I drove to the deli and picked up a diet Snapple, and by the time I got home, no more than 5 minutes, there was so much condensation on the bottle the label fell off.

My tomato and pepper plants on the porch and the pansies and geraniums in the porch hanging baskets are suffering.  They have enough water, but the sun is burning them. Literally.  The sides of the peppers and tomatoes facing the sun are actually cooked!

I am frustrated because I can't go to the country house.  I have so much to do, but the a/c there is kaput.  It's a groundwater-based heat pump, silted and salted up, and can't be repaired.  It has to be replaced with a REAL system.  I can cool that house fine by opening the basement door and using fans to pull cool air up, but that works only when the outside temp is no higher than about 87, tops.  The back of the house is mostly glass and faces west, so the afternoon sun is less than helpful.

3577 Hey, this is NJ, not FL!

Wednesday, July 18, 2012

There are better ways to get to the top of a tree than by sitting on an acorn.

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2pm.  103 degrees F.

There IS such a thing as too hot to put the top down.
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3576 Wednesday

Wednesday, July 18, 2012

Huston Smith, on faith: "We may do things we think are wrong,

but we cannot believe things we think are false."

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It's 7 am and it's already 82 F outside and steamy.  It's going to be a hot day.   I was under the impression that living so close to the water we'd have cool refreshing breezes.

Nope.  Just steam.

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From a Meetup invitation: "Sorry, no pets are aloud to join the party." 

Maybe it means I can bring a boa constrictor?  They're quiet.

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From a weather advisory for the country house:  "Severe thunderstorms, hail up to one inch in diameter or larger."

Do they know what "up to" means?

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I had a hair accident Monday.

My natural color these days is not white or gray.  It's a very pale yellow.  Pale blond, which is pretty much what it had been when I was a baby.  In the winter it's a bit darker, and in the summer, especially since I drive with the top down a lot, it gets bleached to white in the sunlight, although still pale blond indoors.

So, since I like it blond, in the summer I shampoo in a temporary (6-12 shampoos) ash blond tint.   The stuff I use has no bleaching ingredients, so my scattered brown hairs still show through here and there.

Monday I screwed up.  The stuff is supposed to be on your hair 20 minutes.  I usually leave it on 15 minutes.  I had received an email that I wanted to respond to, and started the response after putting the tint on.  I got to thinking about what I was writing, and next thing I knew, 40 minutes had gone by.

I ran to the bathroom, jumped into the shower, lathered it  up, rinsed it off, toweled it dry, looked in the mirror, and ... my hair is the same color as the bathroom door's brass doorknob.  The EXACT same color.  I could see the doorknob in the mirror, next to my hair.  I am not exaggerating.

My hair has been washed four times in the past day and a half, and it's still flaming brass.  A long time ago I'd read that to remove temporary hair color, you should use oil, so my hair has been mayonnaised and olive oiled.  (I thought the mayonnaise would work well because it also has vinegar.)  I've been wearing scarves wrapped around my head, or hats, when I have to go out in public.

I am unhappy.
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3561 Cammo

Monday, July 2, 2012

To touch a rock is to touch the past.

To touch a flower is to touch the present.

To touch a child is to touch the future get fired.

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I seem to have suddenly gained 10 pounds, distributed from my collar bones to my knees.  I don't know how.  But for the past two months, nothing fits.  Even my bras are choking me.

I was worried that maybe it had something to do with the kidney, but it doesn't seem to be edema.  My extremities are not affected.  It's flat-out fat.

Back to counting calories I guess.  I bet it was ice cream that did it.

Given that nothing fits, I'm almost lucky that there's heat.   I prefer loose clothing when it's hot anyway.  Easier to put on, allows air flow, blah blah.  There's a reason they wear mu'u mu'us in Hawaii.

I've been wearing some mu'u mu'us I bought in Hawaii, and caftans from the Smithsonian catalog and from African importers.  I really like them.  I'd wear them all year, except that it's hard to wear a coat over a caftan.

One day I slipped a caftan on to go downstairs to answer the door when the bell rang as I was getting out of the shower.  I didn't have any underwear on, and, surprise, I discovered I don't need panties with caftans or mu'u mu'us.  Nobody's going to see anything.  Nothing "touches" anything.  Air flow is very much increased.

Being me, I wondered if I ought to put something on.  A bra is sort of necessary to prevent movement, and embarrassment in a cool draft, but panties?  That got me thinking about thongs (not the shoes... thongs used to be shoes, you know).  I've never understood thongs.  They are definitely not comfortable.  That thin part up the back is incredibly annoying.  It rubs sensitive spots.  They don't protect outer clothing.  All they "cover" is a triangle of fur in the front (and mine is blond), so why bother?

Anybody want to explain why anyone voluntarily wears thongs to me?  I mean as a regular thing, during the day.  I can see their value in intimate encounters....
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3553 Playing tourist

Thursday, June 21, 2012

Many men don't really want to hear what a woman has to say. They say they do,

but they don't, and they telegraph that. They end up teaching their women

not to say anything important, and then complain because they never say anything important. 

 -- Me --

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The green has nothing to do with this post.  Well, very little.

I intended to go to the country house this week, leaving Tuesday evening or Wednesday morning.  But Tuesday morning The Man asked what my plans were for the week.  He was going to be in NJ on business somewhere toward the end of the week and wanted to set up the schedule so he could visit when I was free.  Naturally I got all excited, and said that my time was flexible, and when could he be here?

Tuesday afternoon, I got the temperature alert for the country house - 98 degrees Wednesday and Thursday.  The a/c is dead there, that's one of those things on the "to fix" list, so my time suddenly became even more flexible.  It would be well over 100 in that house. 

By early afternoon Tuesday, The Man's schedule had changed, too.  No NJ.  He was going to be in Washington, DC, for two days.

So, long story short, I'm in (well, near) DC.  Arrived yesterday, leaving tomorrow.  He's working during the day, but we have the evenings and mornings.

3434 Roast and freeze.

Friday, December 30, 2011

A year from now you will wish you had started today.
-- Karen Lamb --

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I don't understand the heat in this house. Because it's a slab, the downstairs floors are cold. Because of poor design, many of the heat vents are in the ceiling. Because I'm short, mostly I live in the cold part. That much I understand.

What I don't understand is why even though the thermostat is steady, the house is very warm, too warm, in the morning even before the sun is fully up, and then it's cold in the evening. And when I say cold, I mean a scarf around my neck and a jacket on. That's ridiculous.

Maybe it's me, something about my metabolism, not the house, but I've never had this problem before, and I don't have the problem in the old house! I'm always comfortable there.

Something's screwy.

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It's worse tonight because "Narnia" is on TV. I've tried to watch it many times before and never made it past the first 40 minutes. I'm determined to make it all the way through this evening, but it's all SNOW! and ICE! and those kids aren't very warmly dressed! That ice queen/witch is wearing short sleeves!

Aaaaaagggghhh! I'm freeeeeezing!
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3304 Sleep reset

Tuesday, July 12, 2011

Anyone who inhabits himself cannot believe in objective thinking.
-- Hugh Prather, Notes to Myself --

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I've been going to bed early pretty much ever since I've moved down here. I don't know why. I'm not watching TV much, lately I've had it on a total of maybe three to five hours a week, and that might be part of it. No reason to stay up late. Mainly I think it's because I've been waking up so early, so by 9 or 10 pm I'm tired.

I don't know why I'm waking up so early. There's a constant sound coming from the east, the side of the house my bedroom is on. It sounds like tree frogs, like shaking small chains, with a deeper undercurrent of machinery. I had noticed it during the winter, starting up in the evening and going until 2 or 3 am. Now, in the summer, it's constant. The really weird part is that no one else can hear it, even on my porch, only me, and I can't hear it anywhere else except in the front of my house and my yard. It's driving me crazy.

I woke this morning at 5 am and couldn't get back to sleep. I had set the A/C higher overnight (I don't know why, habit I guess, do the opposite with heat in the winter) and it was already 80 F in the bedroom when I woke. The birds were going crazy. When I got downstairs I turned the TV on for the news, and caught the numbers 100-105 F - today's prediction.

Good Grief! This is New Jersey! And I haven't felt humidity like this since I left St. Louis. Everything feels damp. Nothing dries. It's hard to breathe. (Nothing dries except the plants outside. The lawn, the tomato and pepper plants, the flowers. They scream constantly. The sun! The sun!)

When I wake in the morning, my mind is in high gear - fussing over the old house and the amount of work it's going to take to get out of there. There's just too much STUFF! I'm getting more and more willing to throw out perfectly good stuff, just to get it gone. And The Man. I wish I knew for sure what's going on there.

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Daughter and Hercules contribute to the loud bird problem. They bought their house from an elderly couple, and the old man in retirement built birdhouses. They have (I haven't counted, but it's something like) 15 birdhouses in the trees on their lot, and they are all occupied, with several varieties of birds and a few squirrels. The birds congregate there. Right across the street from my bedroom window. They start up just before the sun peeks over the horizon. Yeah, it's nice, but loud.
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3011 Inadequate A/C; Inconsiderate a-holes

Monday, July 5, 2010

“Wise men talk because they have something to say;
fools, because they have to say something.”
-- Plato --

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When it hit 87 degrees inside the house last night, I gave up and turned the air conditioning on.

I'd been resisting turning on the A/C as long as possible because the heat pump A/C runs off the well water, so while it's on, I have miserable water pressure, and it stirs up the well so there's silt in the water and I have to change the filter in the basement more often. But last night when it hit 87 degrees in the house, and temperatures are supposed to approach 100 degrees over the next three to five days, I gave in.

There are several steps involved:

1. Turn off the living room thermostat that controls the oil furnace.
2. Change the water filter at the tank in the basement, a very dirty job.
3. Fight through the spider webs and throw the circuit breakers: furnace off, heat pump on.
4. Remove the damper from the heat pump, so the cool air can enter the ducts. This involves standing on a chair and pounding with a hammer.
5. Insert the damper in the furnace ductwork to keep the cool air from dumping through the furnace into the basement.
6. Turn on the water to the heat pump, which involves a tall stepladder and wrist strength.
7. Check for water leaks.
   
8. Turn on the hall thermostat, that controls the heat pump A/C and electric backup heat.

I did all the steps, and when the temperature continued to rise, and there was no air blowing from the ducts, I got very upset. I could hear water flowing through the coils, so I thought the fan had died. There are no parts available for the heat pump. Jay had got a good deal on it when the house was built in 1982, but what they didn't tell him is that the model was discontinued that year. Parts and service were available for only seven more years. Nobody wants to work on it now. I keep planning to replace it with a REAL a/c system, but every year there's another huge unexpected expense (like when I discovered the roof was going to cost $10,000, not the $4,000 or so I'd planned for, that wiped out two years), or I let it go until too late in the year, so, anyway, it hasn't happened.

When I finished freaking out and was able to think logically, I went through all the possibilities, and then realized I'd screwed up step 8. I had turned on the wrong thermostat. The furnace thermostat has a "Cool" setting, but it's not hooked up to anything, and I had forgotten all about the hall thermostat and had flipped the living room thermostat to "cool". Sheesh.

The shutoff valve on the heat pump hasn't worked in years, so water runs through the system constantly. I paid about $5,000 last year (or the year before?) to have the well pipes, pump, and pressure tank replaced, so I hope this doesn't kill them. Plumbers tell me that well pumps like to run, it's going off and on that kills them, so I'm hoping it's ok - as long as I don't pump the well dry.

It's now 11 am, and even with the system having run flat out all night, the inside temperature is already 80 and rising. It's only 84 outside.

I am really starting to hate this house.

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I'm in a very bad mood partly because my mail box and paper tube have been hit again. It gets hit every few months by people backing out of the driveway across the street. No one EVER stops and apologizes, and that alone pisses me off. And I know how it happens because I have seen the tracks in snow, or in the lawn. Once I was actually in the side yard and saw it.

Three bashes ago, the post for the newspaper tube got bent, so it is no longer in line with the mailbox, making it difficult to reach it from the car. Two bashes ago, the mailbox body got twisted enough that the door no longer closes. There's about a two inch gap at the top. Rain and snow get in. The last previous bash twisted the post far to the left, so the mailbox is not lined up with the street.

Somebody hit it yesterday, twisting the mailbox to the other direction, and destroying the tube. Here's what I have now:


It's impossible now to reach the newspaper from the car. I have to get out of the car, no matter what the weather, no matter how hard it's pouring or hailing. The paper delivery person must be throwing it in or something.

The a-hole must have hit it very hard, because although the mailbox post was designed to twist rather than break when hit by the town snowplow, it's got 25 years of rust and corrosion on it, and when the Hunk straightens it for me, he needs to use a winch on his truck.

And as usual, no one so much as left a note, let alone offered to fix it. I am royally pissed off.

I bought a new mailbox a few months ago, but I want to install it on the other side of the driveway, hoping a-holes will be less likely to hit it, and I haven't decided yet what kind of post I want. I'd prefer something flexible, like a huge spring, but haven't found the right thing yet.

I am really starting to hate people.

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The kicker? The "Service engine soon" light is back on steady in Hal. He's going in tomorrow for the bumper replacement, so I'll mention it then.

I'm really starting to hate this car.
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1614 Thank You, Plow Man

Wednesday, December 26, 2007

I was up late last night, so I slept late this morning. Usually the cats let me sleep, but this morning Jasper was bouncing all over my legs by 10:30, and Miss Thunderfoot was complaining loudly. Very unusual for her. I was having a nice dream, and held out until 11, but finally gave up and got up.

Their complaint was that it was 60 degrees (F) in the house.

I have a programmed thermostat, so the temperature does drop during the night, but never lower than 63, and it should be above 70 by 9 am. Something was wrong, and the cats didn't like it. Not one bit.

Neither did I.

The furnace fan was blowing, but it was blowing cold air. The outside temperature was 32. Freezing. We had power. I went to the basement, and the furnace was "running", but it was cold. The fuel tank gauge said "empty". I knocked on it with a knuckle, and it was hollow all the way down. I have a 250 gallon tank. I got a delivery only two months ago. Ouch!

Remember my chief concern about getting the top of my drive cleared? So the fuel oil truck could get up and turned around?

I called the oil company and told them I was out and needed an emergency delivery, then moved the Aerio to the street to make sure the truck could turn around. Within the hour, I heard the "beep beep" of a truck backing up the drive.

Backing up?

It was a new guy, and he didn't know that Ms. Silk always makes sure he can turn around (although the dispatcher knew, and had made sure to send a small truck). I met him at the top of the driveway, and scolded him, "Sheesh! I did all this work (waving at the cleared top) to make sure you'd be able to turn around, and you BACK up the drive? But I've gotta admire your courage!"

I guess it was a scary trip. This complete stranger walked up to me and hugged me, with a relieved laugh.

It took 253.1 gallons, at $2.449/gal. $619.84 total. It would have cost a lot more, but I had prepaid in September, with a discount on the September price. I've got one more delivery's worth of credit, then I'll have to pay the real price.

Let's hope it's a short winter.
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1271 A/C Time Again

Monday, May 28, 2007

When I got home this evening, it was 84 degrees in the house. Time to switch to the air conditioning.

My heat is an oil furnace. The A/C and backup heat is a groundwater heat pump. Despised. Totally inadequate. They share the forced air ductwork. The A/C is pretty simple in operation. It pulls cold water from the well, runs it through a web of tubes, blows air over the tubes, then through the house. The water then flows into a drywell.

Showering when the A/C goes on can be a shock.

Switching between heat and A/C is a pain, so I try to avoid doing it until I absolutely have to.

First I have to ensure that both thermostats are off, and then remove the insulated damper from the duct leading to the heat pump. That requires standing on a chair, and the use of pliers and a hammer.

Then I insert a damper in a slot over the furnace. That one's easier. The cover is looser and the damper panel fits better.

Then I have to figure out which of the water pipes goes to the heating section, and which to the A/C section of the heat pump, and open the correct two input valves, and the one that lets the used water go out to the drywell. (I have to be careful not to open the wrong ones, because the heating section has a leak.) One of them requires a ladder and a wrench.

Last year I went almost all summer with inadequate cooling, because I neglected to open one of the spigots fully, and there wasn't enough water flowing through. Tonight I listened carefully, and felt the pipes, and there's a good flow.

Then I went upstairs and turned on the heat pump thermostat, ensuring that the A/C switch was on, the fan was on auto, and the temperature was set correctly.

Nothing happened.

Duh? Did the fan die?

I waited and waited, and finally opened the windows and dragged some fans up from the basement.

At 8 pm it was 85 degrees.

I was standing in the kitchen when it hit me what I'd forgotten. Step two. Switch the breakers in the electric box downstairs. One on and one off prevents the furnace and the A/C from accidentally going on when the "wrong" damper is in. That should be done immediately before or after swapping the dampers.

Done, and I now have cool air.

Sort of.

It's been blowing for three hours, and we're all the way down to 80.

Wow. I wonder what the temperature would be at 11 pm if I didn't turn the A/C on?
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