During the first cold snap of the year, we discovered a problem with the pilot light on the heater. So, of course, we rushed right out, called to have someone come and fix it, and during the present cold snap we’re all nice and toasty.
Sh’yeah. Right.
(And this is not an indictment of Margie. It’s not just her job. I have a finger, and a telephone, and all that.)
Part of the problem is that we’d never had anyone come to clean and disinfect the basement area where the furnace is from when the sewer backed up. No stinkiness or anything, but it needed cleaning.
So Margie, in a great flurry of activity the week before we went off to Orlando, got both cleaning people and heater people scheduled to come to the house. The cleaning people came this a.m. All’s bright and shiny. The heater people come this afternoon. None too soon, since it’s — well, the thermostat says 56 degrees. I call it damned cold for the inside of a house.