Yesterday morning, both Wife and I separately noted the racket that our normally quiet, energy-efficient gas furnace was making. Neither of us was proactive enough to do anything about it beyond noting that it was making a rather ominous noise.
When I arrived home after work the same day, I made a note of the chill in the air and eyed the thermostat - 62 degrees. Rats.
Made a few phone calls to various heating contractors, none of whom returned the messages I left. Our normally reliable contractor didn't even have their answering machine on. So last night was spent in an ever-increasing chill. Thankfully, El Nino has made the winter generally mild thus far, and last night was no exception, though the temperature in the house had dipped to 59 by morning.
We did manage to get a call placed to our regular furnace-fixer this morning. He arrived within the hour and made a rather sad assessment: the motor to the blower had burned itself up. Swell.
Long story short, there is a new motor on order, but it's not scheduled to arrive ... till Tuesday. Argin' fargin'.
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Please note: My policy at Bramble Tamble is to not use real names for private citizens. I hope you will adhere to this policy; hell, it's my only rule here. (But you can use your own real name if you'd like. Cause I'm magnanimous like that.)