The Heat is Out

I awoke this morning to very cold sheets. That was odd because, while I usually go to bed in cold sheets, when I wake up they're nice and toasty. I didn't think a lot of it until I heard the furnace try to start.

I say "try" because the blower started, I heard clicking, but the whoosh of heat never began. I'm not sure when during the night it stopped but this morning it was 52° in the house. No wonder my sheets were not warm and toasty. 

I thought maybe the pilot light was out. I looked for a bit but couldn't make sense of anything in the unit. And then I thought maybe it doesn't even have a pilot light. So I called the landlord and left a voice message for him.

And then I wondered what in the world to do with myself in a cold house. The day turned out alright, after all.

I started the self-cleaning oven cycle because that heats up a house like nobody's business -- and, let's face it, it really needed to be done anyway. I had some coffee and cereal. Then I went outside and shoveled snow. Yup, it snowed last night. It was such a beautiful day, I became inspired to go for a walk. The landlord showed up a short time after I came home.

He brought two very nice space heaters and his toolbox. He quickly determined that the furnace does not have a pilot light; it has an electric igniter and it was dead. He said it's easy to replace but the heating and plumbing store which sells them is closed on Sunday. So he's coming back tomorrow morning to replace the part. 

In the mean time, I'm snuggled up in my bed with an extra comforter, my heated rice snakes, and a book. Oh, and there's a lovely space heater in the corner of the room. 

All is well.