Comings and Goings . . . Monday, January 10

You’d think I would’ve figured it out sooner. I felt chilled on Sunday evening. Was my darned cold coming back? Barefoot most of the day, I put on slippers. That didn’t help much. Cool and drafty. Checked doors and windows. The thermostat was set to 72. I could hear the furnace running. Brrrr. I escalated to fleece vest to down throw. Egads! The flu?

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

 The sensible move would have been to bundle up, go out for firewood and light up the woodstove, but I was chilled to the bone by this time and couldn’t face 28°. The furnace had a new igniter installed, just weeks ago. How long would it take to get the furnace guy back out here?! They only come "up the hill" about once a week. (I’ll skip details about changing batteries in the thermostat and having to reprogram it.) I went to bed, swathed in enough layers to sleep in an igloo. I didn’t get up until it was late enough to to ring up corporate Sonora.

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

 Jean-Luc fell asleep in my lap after dinner and it’s a law that a cat sleeping in your lap after dinner is not to be disturbed. Couldn’t beat him, so I joined him and we napped the evening away. And why was I so sleepy? Chloe woke me up during the cold night before with loud rollicking purring that went on and on. Once the "white noise" had lulled me back to sleep, she stopped abruptly, presumably for a potty break, and the silence woke me up again. And that’s why I fell asleep with Jean-Luc. (Bitch, bitch, bitch.)

I tried to blog, but went to bed instead.

See you tomorrow.