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Back in November, is when it all started... Our LP furnace would cycle on and blow out cold air. But only every couple of days and never when Hubs was home. I know he thought I was imagining it. Finally, the furnace slipped up and did the cold air trick on the weekend and Hubs was here to witness it. It did it once, then again, then finally was blowing out only cold air. NO HEAT AT ALL.
Hubs called for a repairman and after getting lost for an hour or so, he located our residence. He went to the basement, flipped on the furnace, and looked confused as it fired right up and worked like a charm. He stuck around for a good while, checking things out, turning it off and restarting it, all the things he knew to do. The darn thing would not, could not, did not, blow out cold air. Not even once. We paid him $79.00 for the service call and he was on his way. The furnace had worked like a charm since then. Until yesterday...
The two youngest kids were working on their writing assignments and I was crocheting a hat when a horrid metal-on-metal sound came from the air intake vent, then stopped. This repeated three times. I turned the furnace off, knowing that the fan motor must be shot. As it slowed to a stop, the screeching was equal to what I imagine a train wreck sounding like. The kids were holding their ears and demanding to know what that noise was. I plugged up a couple of electric heaters and called Hubs to break the news.
"Why are you calling me? I'm all the way on the other side of the county. I can't help you from here. You need a furnace repairman."
I was not in the mood for his smart ass tone.
"No shit, Sherlock. I just assumed you would want to know."
He said it sounded as though the ball-bearings in the fan had gone bad and told me to call the same guy that had not fixed it before, when it wasn't broken.
I called the repairman and he agreed to come check it out. He would be rather last though, as our house was on his way home and he would make it the last service call of his day. While I was on the phone with Repairman, the dogs start going ape poop and almost simultaneously Ross comes running through the house screaming bloody murder. Someone was at the door and she had looked out the door curtain and the person on the other side had frightened her. I hurried and said my "goodbye" to Repairman and went to the kitchen door. It was Hairy Greg, the local shade tree mechanic. Imagine Chewbacca after a few weeks of being dipped in Rogaine. Wonderful guy. Just extremely hairy. This was the first time Ross had ever laid eyes on him and now I'm sure they're both going to need therapy. Turned out he was just dropping by to see Hubs, who was not home. Why folks refuse to call first is beyond me.
Anyway, Hubs and Repairman arrived within seconds of each other last night. They both went to the basement. I heard some clanging around as the furnace was opened, then the blower was turned on. No clangs. No bangs. No screeching metal sounds. NOTHING! The dang thing worked like a dream. Repairman and Hubs came upstairs and, as I was explaining again just what the thing had been doing, knowing this guy probably mad as a hatter, obsessed with him, or both, Hubs has the nerve to tell him, "If I had been home, I would have went down to the basement and actually looked for what was making the noise before calling you. But she panicked and insisted on calling for a repairman."
I know the glare in my eyes was saying, "WHAT, BITCH?! DID YOU REALLY JUST SAY THAT?!" But my mouth said, "If you had been home, you would have done exactly as I did because it sounded like the end of days when I shut it off and no one with any sense would have turned it back on before getting it checked out."
Repairmen assured me that this has happened before and also told us that the service call is good for a whole week. In other words, if something happens again during that time, he won't charge for another service call when he comes back out.
Living the dream, folks. Living the dream.
Hubs called for a repairman and after getting lost for an hour or so, he located our residence. He went to the basement, flipped on the furnace, and looked confused as it fired right up and worked like a charm. He stuck around for a good while, checking things out, turning it off and restarting it, all the things he knew to do. The darn thing would not, could not, did not, blow out cold air. Not even once. We paid him $79.00 for the service call and he was on his way. The furnace had worked like a charm since then. Until yesterday...
The two youngest kids were working on their writing assignments and I was crocheting a hat when a horrid metal-on-metal sound came from the air intake vent, then stopped. This repeated three times. I turned the furnace off, knowing that the fan motor must be shot. As it slowed to a stop, the screeching was equal to what I imagine a train wreck sounding like. The kids were holding their ears and demanding to know what that noise was. I plugged up a couple of electric heaters and called Hubs to break the news.
"Why are you calling me? I'm all the way on the other side of the county. I can't help you from here. You need a furnace repairman."
I was not in the mood for his smart ass tone.
"No shit, Sherlock. I just assumed you would want to know."
He said it sounded as though the ball-bearings in the fan had gone bad and told me to call the same guy that had not fixed it before, when it wasn't broken.
I called the repairman and he agreed to come check it out. He would be rather last though, as our house was on his way home and he would make it the last service call of his day. While I was on the phone with Repairman, the dogs start going ape poop and almost simultaneously Ross comes running through the house screaming bloody murder. Someone was at the door and she had looked out the door curtain and the person on the other side had frightened her. I hurried and said my "goodbye" to Repairman and went to the kitchen door. It was Hairy Greg, the local shade tree mechanic. Imagine Chewbacca after a few weeks of being dipped in Rogaine. Wonderful guy. Just extremely hairy. This was the first time Ross had ever laid eyes on him and now I'm sure they're both going to need therapy. Turned out he was just dropping by to see Hubs, who was not home. Why folks refuse to call first is beyond me.
Anyway, Hubs and Repairman arrived within seconds of each other last night. They both went to the basement. I heard some clanging around as the furnace was opened, then the blower was turned on. No clangs. No bangs. No screeching metal sounds. NOTHING! The dang thing worked like a dream. Repairman and Hubs came upstairs and, as I was explaining again just what the thing had been doing, knowing this guy probably mad as a hatter, obsessed with him, or both, Hubs has the nerve to tell him, "If I had been home, I would have went down to the basement and actually looked for what was making the noise before calling you. But she panicked and insisted on calling for a repairman."
I know the glare in my eyes was saying, "WHAT, BITCH?! DID YOU REALLY JUST SAY THAT?!" But my mouth said, "If you had been home, you would have done exactly as I did because it sounded like the end of days when I shut it off and no one with any sense would have turned it back on before getting it checked out."
Repairmen assured me that this has happened before and also told us that the service call is good for a whole week. In other words, if something happens again during that time, he won't charge for another service call when he comes back out.
Living the dream, folks. Living the dream.
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