A real-honest-to-goodness boiler. If you ignore the dust, it is a marvelous place to let bread dough rise. Perfect temperature. The boiler itself is original to the house which puts it at about 50 years old and still chugging away. Surely there are newer, more energy efficient models I could replace it with but the quote I was given has scared the thought right out of me. It would take another 50 years to pay itself off in potential energy savings. And it won’t proof the bread dough. I’m also helping keep up the demand for natural gas. Some companies are banking on this.
So we’ll keep it. The house was toasty warm all winter long despite some real cold snaps. And the monthly gas bill wasn’t any more than at the last house where we had a 30 year old gas fired forced air furnace. We have made some concessions to modernity though. A new hot water tank to replace the circa 1980s one. Besides, insurance won’t cover any damage if the old tank leaks. You can see the new one – not installed yet – standing next to the boiler in this photo.
Here’s the old one:
The new copper pipes are for the new water conditioner. The one the house came with wasn't hooked up and looked like it could have doubled for a cruise missile. One complaint I have about this part of the city is the hardness of the water. You can actually see the buildup in Rory’s water bowl, and it’s not like I don’t wash it frequently. Also, the window on the front load washer is getting hazy. And I’m going through buckets of skin lotion. Here’s the new gizmo, plumbed in courtesy of Norm, but not turned on just yet:
I understand that there are servers humming away in the dwarf-space under the stairs – Norm showed them to me, but as long as they work, I don’t visit them. Heck, even if they didn’t work I wouldn’t go see them. And what old house
Sure, we’re almost done. Not. But I have a lot to be grateful for. I see it even if you don’t. On that note, I’m going to go take my plumber, cable puller, network installer, researcher, electrician, and general handyman out for supper. Just the two of us. It's the least I can do for the man who has yet to send me an invoice for any of this work. Maybe I chose the wrong title for this post. It should be more along the lines of "The Heart of it". Right, Norm?