My house is being very demanding right now.
It's really cold, low 40's, and time to suck it up and turn on the heat. It's a Maine thing I picked up in college, that turning on the heat is somehow a surrender. Most people I know from up there wait as long as possible before turning on the boiler or lighting the stove. You know who you are.
Knowing that the time would soon come, I recruited my brother a few weeks ago to help me figure out the relatively-new oil burner and forced-hot water heating system. It took a while, largely due to an annoying digital thermostat, but eventually the system kicked in and the baseboard heating units warmed up. We had heat at the Archer house.
I shut off the thermostat, confident that all I'd have to do is turn it back on when the cold finally won. Well, when I turned on the heat before going to bed last night and it was just 55 degrees in the house this morning, I realized something was wrong.
We still don't know what the problem is with the burner. Could be the oldest electrical switch I have ever seen, the one that appears to have been manufactured the year after electricity was invented. The one that powers the oil burner. Could be something to do with the burner itself, or maybe the lock-outs, the relays, the oil line, the damned thermostat. Really, could be anything. And I don't want to pay for an emergency Sunday service call. So I called to leave a message to make a service appointment with the oil company for non-peak hours.
So the whole heat thing really frustrated me today, as I feel like I always live in houses that are too cold and I'm really tired of it. Aaron brought up the space heater for the living room. It was when he tried to vacuum off the same outlet as the space heater and the TV's surge strip that we blew a fuse in the living room and had to figure that out. It was a simple fix, but after the oil burner not starting I just didn't care any more.
The fuse was pretty easily sorted out. Not so much with the heat. So we have the space heater and blankets, as well as the dubious heat-producing abilities of a few Dura-Logs. It's not going to get below freezing, so we'll survive until the oil guy can come over. Cold doesn't win just yet. Though I can promise you that if there were a newborn in this house, we'd have sucked it up and paid the emergency service rates to get some heat in this house.
Part of my frustration was that it's been on my to-do list to have the damned oil furnace serviced and I just haven't gotten it done. I also regret not having paid attention during the home inspection. I wasn't feeling well that day and spent most of the time on the previous owner's couch.
Speaking of the previous owner, we realized today that they actually did have a water purification system, but the filter hasn't been changed in 3.5 years. They're supposed to last 3 months. No wonder the water tastes like moldy ass and we go through a Brita filter a month.
I take comfort in feeling like they weren't malicious about neglecting things in this house, but they just weren't totally forthcoming. Not that I blame them. Or maybe they just didn't know how to cope so they didn't. There are a lot of things that have turned up in this house that are just little issues. Nothing terrible, just an accumulation of stuff the last people probably inherited and couldn't be bothered with fixing either. I can understand that. I resent having to be surprised by it, but I bought this house and have a responsibility to figure it out and fix its problems.
10.19.2008
10.15.2008
Wary of the Invisible
Aaron picked up on something I said that sounded like "wary of the invisible", then used it his mood on MySpace. I thought it was a good line. I asked him if it came from the faulty carbon monoxide alarm we discovered this morning. The light had turned red and switched to "move to fresh air." Had we been slowly poisoned by an odorless, colorless gas? I did just fire up the oil furnace last week.
We opened a couple windows and I stopped to pick up a new CO detector this morning before my doctor's appointment. It's plugged in now and working fine. No CO in the house.
I also had on in the background the "Haunting" dramalogues on TLC this afternoon while I worked from the sofa. It's daytime TV, therefore full of baby commercials. Ah, welcome to a new demographic, Mrs. Archer.
Schlocky though they are, I kind of like those "Haunting" stories. Talk about wary of the invisible. Ironically, even the baby commercials are about the invisible -- my very squirmy full-term baby daughter. I know she's there, I can't ignore her. And I can't see her, other than in small quakes rippling in my prominent belly.
And yes, I'm a little wary of that invisible too. I'm ready for her to get here. I don't know what to expect once she does. I'm not sure exactly when she'll arrive, or how challenging it's going to be. All I know is that it's coming. I'm getting things done/keeping busy/resting until I get a better idea of exactly when, unmistakably, that one invisible will show up.
We opened a couple windows and I stopped to pick up a new CO detector this morning before my doctor's appointment. It's plugged in now and working fine. No CO in the house.
I also had on in the background the "Haunting" dramalogues on TLC this afternoon while I worked from the sofa. It's daytime TV, therefore full of baby commercials. Ah, welcome to a new demographic, Mrs. Archer.
Schlocky though they are, I kind of like those "Haunting" stories. Talk about wary of the invisible. Ironically, even the baby commercials are about the invisible -- my very squirmy full-term baby daughter. I know she's there, I can't ignore her. And I can't see her, other than in small quakes rippling in my prominent belly.
And yes, I'm a little wary of that invisible too. I'm ready for her to get here. I don't know what to expect once she does. I'm not sure exactly when she'll arrive, or how challenging it's going to be. All I know is that it's coming. I'm getting things done/keeping busy/resting until I get a better idea of exactly when, unmistakably, that one invisible will show up.
10.06.2008
Sore Hips
I'm 36 weeks along now, and my hips are killing me. I'm down to working from home part time these next couple weeks, because sitting upright at a desk all day is now not possible. I'm easing my way into bed rest.
But first, I'm finishing things and preparing things. I'm putting things away and gathering up my resources for a major change. My sore hips are not helping. But it makes sense that there must be physical stress around having a baby. It's a big life change, so it must feel as big, right in your gut, commensurately.
There are two distinct conditions about being at this point physically in a pregnancy. One is that I have discovered physical weaknesses that I cannot wait to address. I need to get in shape, especially if I think I'm having another baby ever. This is not easy on a girl, my friends. I think the combination of having to eat a little better for the diabetes, having to worry about Annika's nutrition, and having had to just physically BE pregnant will help motivate me to exercise and eat better. Nothing else has so far. Maybe sore hips will be the final straw.
The other condition at this point is that my body is trying to get me to wind down. That's what the sore hips are about too. My body has known things about pregnancy all along, things my brain had to go catching up on. My body has changed precisely as it's needed to. My intellectual reactions haven't always been so tolerant. It's no different now with the sore hips. It's not what I want, but I don't have much of a choice. Walking is difficult. I can't bend down and pick things up off the floor very easily. If my will must keep me going, fine. My body is even more determined to get me to stop.
Cold weather helps. It's definitely fall now, and cool outside. I still won't turn on the heat, but it's getting colder. So I'm preparing to hibernate. I'm nesting, and it's a gradual process. Getting laundry done and beds made. Stocking up on supplies. Closing up summertime and getting ready for fall and winter.
I've been seeing Annika's birth as an alarm going off when she's done cooking. I have x-number of weeks to get all of this stuff done, because the bell is going to ring and then it's done. I really wanted to schedule and plan the birth itself, so I knew exactly how much time I had. But along the way I let that go, remembering that some things just have to happen. I only just found out that the birth might have to be planned after all. That means my daughter and I have been on the same page this whole time after all. As I suspected.
But as soon as you plan one thing, something else -- like sore hips -- surprises you and makes sure you are doing only what you need to be doing in order to be ready. It also reminds you that no matter what you do, you can only be so ready.
But first, I'm finishing things and preparing things. I'm putting things away and gathering up my resources for a major change. My sore hips are not helping. But it makes sense that there must be physical stress around having a baby. It's a big life change, so it must feel as big, right in your gut, commensurately.
There are two distinct conditions about being at this point physically in a pregnancy. One is that I have discovered physical weaknesses that I cannot wait to address. I need to get in shape, especially if I think I'm having another baby ever. This is not easy on a girl, my friends. I think the combination of having to eat a little better for the diabetes, having to worry about Annika's nutrition, and having had to just physically BE pregnant will help motivate me to exercise and eat better. Nothing else has so far. Maybe sore hips will be the final straw.
The other condition at this point is that my body is trying to get me to wind down. That's what the sore hips are about too. My body has known things about pregnancy all along, things my brain had to go catching up on. My body has changed precisely as it's needed to. My intellectual reactions haven't always been so tolerant. It's no different now with the sore hips. It's not what I want, but I don't have much of a choice. Walking is difficult. I can't bend down and pick things up off the floor very easily. If my will must keep me going, fine. My body is even more determined to get me to stop.
Cold weather helps. It's definitely fall now, and cool outside. I still won't turn on the heat, but it's getting colder. So I'm preparing to hibernate. I'm nesting, and it's a gradual process. Getting laundry done and beds made. Stocking up on supplies. Closing up summertime and getting ready for fall and winter.
I've been seeing Annika's birth as an alarm going off when she's done cooking. I have x-number of weeks to get all of this stuff done, because the bell is going to ring and then it's done. I really wanted to schedule and plan the birth itself, so I knew exactly how much time I had. But along the way I let that go, remembering that some things just have to happen. I only just found out that the birth might have to be planned after all. That means my daughter and I have been on the same page this whole time after all. As I suspected.
But as soon as you plan one thing, something else -- like sore hips -- surprises you and makes sure you are doing only what you need to be doing in order to be ready. It also reminds you that no matter what you do, you can only be so ready.
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