Her Room Is Freezing

 

It’s not good when your kid’s cold.  I didn’t need to be taught that this was so.   The house has heat, but her room doesn’t.  And, standing in front of the thermostat in her bathrobe and bare feet today she loudly made clear that this was so.  I checked.  She’s right.  Her room is freezing.  And I vowed to do something.  And insisted she throw on some socks.

I turned first to my father, who reminded me of things like thermostat manuals that might be inside of those binders the former owner’s had kindly left behind for us.  And while there is a wealth of material inside, I didn’t find anything I could use.  I searched online and downloaded the manual in question, fiddled accordingly and stimulated no new heat.  My dad recommended our old neighbor who knows the place well.  I haven’t seen him since the virus began and when I called him today, we caught up on much and he graciously suggested he’d by in a few hours.

 

There’s a lot of copper piping down there.  Shame I never met my granddad who was a plumber.  He probably could have taught me something but as it is I'm befuddled.  My neighbor less so.  This is cold.  That ones hot.  If I flick this switch, they all start to get warmer.  Where does this one lead to?  What about this one?  We keep going up and returning, trying to discern if anything is having an impact.  Nothing is. 

He counsels me to call the fuel company.  Because you have a maintenance agreement with them, they will make a visit right away, I am told.  This never mattered much to me when I was living elsewhere during the winter.  The girls had already eaten and I was fasting, but my wife offered and our neighbor obliged to join us for a meal, and we talked about the neighborhood and then the election.  Everyone seems convinced that Biden will win and that Trump will not leave.

 

 

 

Tuesday, 10/13/20