Our house is throwing a tantrum.
About a week ago, Nick and I woke up to a cold house and cool radiators.
Sometime in the middle of the night, the boiler decides to shut down.
Terrific.
AND
We woke up early to take our car in because the check engine light turned on.
Double YAY.
So, we drop off the car, and then walk back around 7:45am in the dark to our house. On the way we talk about really bright subjects like our cold house and the fact we’re leaving on a trip tomorrow and we need to get it fixed because our pipes may freeze and we really then have screwed ourselves over and all this will happen when we’re in Pennsylvania. The sidewalks are ice and the morning refuses to look promising.
Nick skates off to work and I warm my head in a hat and dial the home insurance people with freezing fingers. I’m sure you remember our garbage disposal debacle – where we had to pay $75 after the guy found the RECHARGE button under our sink – and today was another glorious episode.
After Mr. Fixit comes in and does a lot of mhm and hmmmmmmmm and “weellllll” with a flashlight in his mouth, Nick (who came home) and I were pacing the basement and praying he didn’t say, “You need a new boiler.”
I go upstairs and nervously eat my feelings. The rice krispie treat laying on a plate becomes my victim. While I’m munching on sugar at 9:30am, I hear a sharp and not happy laugh come from the basement.
I hop down the stairs and Mr. Fixit asks me, “What’d you do?”
Confused, I almost blurted out that I ate my feelings with a rice krispie treat but then Nick interjects, “It just turned on. Did you do anything upstairs?”
Other than eat a treat?
“Are you serious?”
“It just turned on and he can’t find anything wrong with it.” Nick and I stare at each other. My temper is flaring as the boiler is spitting itself alive with heat expanding through our house.
I am so pissed, stunned, and relieved that I stomp up the stairs while Nick calls out, “Can you make the check out?”
Another $75. I am absurdly angry.
Then the boiler kicks off again and thus began a three hour visit from Mr. Fixit. Nick takes him all around the house to all the different radiators and when he walks up to our chilly 3rd floor, he gets down on his hands and knees to inspect the thing, and I shit you not, gives the radiator mouth to mouth.
I almost burst out laughing. Instead, I excused myself and got myself together in another room and then wandered back into the room. He was still blowing air from his mouth into the radiator. Apparently this is an old method for starting it up again.
Well, whatever, it started!
And then he proceeded to give mouth to mouth to many other dead radiators who jumped back to life after some human interaction.
Our third floor is like a toasty little oven. I have called it our new apartment because we made it our TV room/weekend getaway/cottage. It’s big and has its own full bathroom. Why use the rest of the house? It’s so warm and we’ve never gone up there so it feels all brand new to us.
Now that the radiators are in full blast, they wheeze and blow up a storm when they’re hard at work. So, the other night when the radiator in our bedroom went head to head with a -20 degree night, I woke up and had to PUT EARPLUGS in to drown out all the racket.
Ahhh, but our third floor is our safe haven right now against the brutal assault of winter.
And then the check engine light came on again in our car.
Sometimes, I really hate being an adult.