December 24, 2022

Christmas Eve

Sharp and bitter cold. The computer claims the temperature outside is 1. My windows are scenically frosted. The kitchen will be unliveable unless I bake. Water froze on the inside of the attic stained glass, which now drips into liquid in the southern sun. As this has been the Year of Incompetent Service, and as I saw no signs that they had actually “insulated” the furnace drain, I sort of figured it would freeze and shut down my furnace. As I must have observed in the past, I have a nine-month-old furnace which was improperly installed (perhaps improperly chosen) and which now heats fine on warm days and shuts off when it’s really cold because its drain pipe freezes. I tell this to the Champion lady on the phone and she says cheerily, “Yes, we have a couple of those.”  Lovely, darling, but what do you do about them? She began the sentence, “We have nobody available today, but tomorrow–” when I cut her off abruptly. The end of that was that sweet Tim was at my door in about 40 minutes. He confirmed my suspicions, and showed me the several ways in which the installation had been substandard. “Don’t even know the laws of physics, do they?” He seemed to be angry at the ineptitude, at least partially because it caused him to shamble through my yard on the coldest night of any year. There turns out to be a temporary work-around, whereby the furnace works but spits water into the dirt floor. That will have to do until they appear again today. Tim is my advocate, I believe. I gave him a box of pumpkin cookies. I can foresee today’s discussion. There are solutions, each forbidden by the “inspectors.” No inspector will ever look upon that furnace again in my lifetime, is my guess. I will have to test, once again, the advocacy of a steely “Do it!”

Slept badly, maybe from the turbulence of material matters. 

Maud in her cycles now sleeps with me. She takes a flying leap from wherever she is to land on the bed, which can be quite startling if you're in the same bed asleep. 

Evening: Tim’s final words last night was that he was going to get on everybody and shake thing up and get my furnace fixed today. Of course, though I stayed glued to the house anticipating it, no such thing happened. It makes me sorry to have this to think about on Christmas Eve.