It wasn’t until late that I looked more closely at the thermostat -- the actual temperature in the house was 52! Something amuck with the furnace. It had been blowing cold outside air into the house for hours.
|Jean-Luc & Henley hover over heater vent|
I only got tepid water for washing up and remembered then how long it had taken for the stove burner to light up to cook the night before. Hmmm. I confirmed that the stove wouldn’t light at all this a.m. Propane gone? That hadn’t happened in over 20 years, not since we got a woman truck driver. I checked the tank, and, sure ‘nuf, zero. Zilch. A relief, actually, since propane delivery would likely be quicker than furnace repair.
I called at 8 and she was here in 45 minutes. Her route is now being scheduled by computer. So much for the predictive capacity of the software. She relit my water heater and then came in to make sure stove and furnace were putting out heat. I should’ve tipped her. Should have tipped her at Christmas. I’d been of two minds before she arrived: tip her for coming out quickly, or not tip her because she let the propane run out. After hearing why, I wish I’d been armed with a tip.
I was doing a little desultory work on the great computer transfer when I heard my friend, who keeps my yard spiffy, pull up in the driveway. She came shivering into the house. There was still nothing warm about outside, although I was basking in the fact that, several hours after propane delivery, I was at last feeling warm. I hadn’t seen my friend since before the holidays, so much to catch up on.
She went out to blow leaves, rake, prune and observe the "frolics" of the two homeless cats who are taken care of by the neighborhood. Another warm up and chat before she left and I did a little frustrating work with files on the old computer.
Sigh. This day didn’t feel very productive, and you can blame two cats for this late posting, although I’m hoping that through the magic of blogger that I can date it for yesterday and fulfill (sort of) my pledge to myself to post daily.
|Chloe, the purrer, sleeps|
I tried to blog, but went to bed instead.
See you tomorrow.