Winter's heating dilemma

 

Now that I am old, I like to be warm. But how to be warm and not ruin the planet?? Like many New Englanders, I have an old house and an old oil furnace. As the leaves turn gold and winter approaches the season poses questions.

Every year I ask the tech if this 35 year old Burnham boiler will last the winter. Every year the answer is the same: Maybe....  The burner itself has been replaced but the boiler is decaying.  I've been trying to decide on a replacement but there are a lot of things to consider. Meantime, I started working in earnest on conserving the heat I have. 

The attic insulation is now at R-48. Then the seal-up and save guys came. They mocked me for the folly of having the insulation put in BEFORE I called them, which screws up sealing the top plate. But they plugged a lot of other holes around the house with foam and contributed a few LEDs to my collection.  I used less oil last year and only turned the AC twice,

         My strategies this year: 

1) Heat less space,
2) Use oil less, electric more
3) Make a window quilt for the big north window in the dinning room, 
4) Get an insulating shade for the damn skylight in the kitchen. 
5) Maximize heat gain on sunny days.

HEATING LESS SPACE

Aging in place in too big a space - I'd avoid it if I could. I've looked around. In this super heated pandemic housing market downsizing is risky. Might be easy to sell - but I have been going to open houses for four years now. I've concluded that this old house, is the safest, happiest & most convenient option for the foreseeable future. So how to heat & cool less space? 

First, close doors, add doors. Between the kitchen and an impossibly leaky unheated  "sun" room on the northwest side -  I had an insulated pre-hung exterior door installed. It wasn't cheap but totally worth all the waiting and wrangling to get it done. That's 150 square feet of essentially enclosed porch I no longer have exchanging heated air with the rest of the house.

 I also closed the three north / eastern rooms and turned down the radiators in those rooms. But huge drafts of cold air always rolled out from under the doors. So this year I got 3 inexpensive devises to fill the gap. Essentially they are little cloth bags with two rolls of foam inside. You scoot them under the door with a roll on each side and close the door. If the rolls are too small, replace them with foam pipe insulation in an appropriate diameter. Simple but it works admirably. No more under-door drafts! 

Before heating season, I also made sure to close all the AC vents to minimize heat escaping into duct-work in the unheated attic. When I turned on the heat, I set the basement zone thermostat to 50 degrees. It never got below 55 down there. As a bonus the cool air was much drier. 

So now I was iving in and heating the core at the center of the house.

USE OIL LESS, ELECTRIC MORE

In winter of 20-21 I got a ceramic tower heater and where ever I was sitting I pointed it right at me so I could keep the thermostat set lower. It only added about six dollars a month to my bill. So winter 21-22  I added another electric heater this one an oil-filled rolling radiator thing. During the day when I am able to check on them I kept the electric on and at night I default to the oil furnace thermostat set at 65. 

Mini-split heat pump

The last season's last delivery (in March) was a whopping surprise - a $945 delivery of oil - almost twice the usual price . (it's now September and I have not used it yet.)  The fact i had no notice of the price change, no choice in how much was delivered  - I WAS FURIOUS. So this year for Winter 22-23 I have a new plan. I cancelled a long standing contract with Heat USA and their contractor Hoffman Energy.  I got an independent non-oil selling guy to service the furnace. I lined up a cash on delivery oil company - with a 50 gallon minimum as opposed to a whole tank or bust.

And now I have contracted for the installation of a two head mini-split for the two rooms I spend most time in - pricey but sensible.  If it works out I think I might not turn on the furnace until the end of November. When the furnace dies, maybe another minisplit for the northeastern rooms?

May, May, go away

May has a worrisome cruelty underneath, and I cant seem to let it go.  My father died in May. My mother too.

May arrives, the azaleas bloom, the lilacs too now. But the beauty is not enough.

Today, this year with the pandemic, I didn't visit my parents' grave. I stayed home again. And tomorrow too. I'm not dead as yet and hope to remain in this state for the foreseeable future. Hope to live to vote in November, live to get my shots: flu and someday, for the novel coronavirus. 

I've always been something of a stay at home, but I balanced this tendency with small scale excursions: lunch, coffee, an exercise class, an art workshop, some local live music, a lecture. Little, short, nearby diversions for mental health,.

Now its just scary grocery store trips. And I struggle with everyone else to figure out how to get stuff delivered. It's tricky. 

And though the world is opening tomorrow - I am not fooled. The virus is still here. And I am still securing against it. I don't care what opens. Each time I think of going out from sheer restlessness, I think  - is it worth dying for?  

I proceed with caution only. 

Praying Mantis in the Fleabane!

In August I planted a dwarf butterfly bush, a sterile cultivar called Pugster Blue Fragrant. While not a native plant, it cannot be invasive like its larger relatives. I got it locally at Halas Nursery and even there it was swarmed with pollinators: butterflies, moths and bees. It was pungent and had filled my car with its heavy sweetish smell on the ride home.

After all the digging and watering, I went in the house for some coffee. I looked back out the window and there was a black swallowtale on my new butterfly bush already!  For the next few days, there were always one or two butterflies enjoying the flowers.  But after a week I didn't see any. I figured they were enjoying a change of diet over in my neighbors cone flowers. I kept peeking about but no butterflies.

All summer I have been nurturing a few stands of wildflower weeds as a garden project. The weeds in question are four-foot tall forests of Daisy Fleabane and Queen Anne's Lace. While I was looking for the missing butterflies, I found three praying mantis

- mostly hanging from the stems of Fleabane by their back legs - looking a lot like dead leaves. They have a reputation as voracious indiscriminate predators, even cannibalistic. Mantises eat a lot of annoying insects. But I think they may have eaten the butterflies as well.

Nature is capricious and pragmatic. Next year I think I will let the Fleabane grow elsewhere in my yard - somewhere not in a direct line between the butterfly bush and the cone flowers down the road....

Conversation Styles Differ

Hot Air

Conversation Styles Differ .... Well that's an understatement. For some, conversation is a stream-of-thought run-on-sentence without punctuation or paragraph marks. Do you talk incessantly in ever widening circles as a way of thinking out loud? As a self-soothing smoke screen to fill up the space between you and another person? If so, this is written for you.

Some other people (including me), need to breathe and have silences in a conversation. We need a meaningful deep pause to collect our thoughts and share or to respond to a speaker. If there are no silences then we will just let the speaker go on and on.

I am listening, but I might be four sentences behind your rapid speech, thinking that what you said doesn't make any sense, seems out of proportion, relies on circular reasoning or a 'straw-man' argument, or that there are facts you mentioned which were improvised out of thin air. Or that this is the 3rd time you said the same thing. Sometimes I see an assumption you have made about me which is upsetting.

But you are six or seven paragraphs ahead of me now, chatting on all by yourself, making more statements that make no sense. So I think - there are so many disparities in this that it's pointless to bring it up any of them - so I let you go on and on and on even though I am beginning to feel beleaguered, buried under all the words.

And you wont find out for weeks that that my ex-husband is dead, or that I locked myself out last night at midnight and had to climb in through the window. At some point I might seem to be getting tense. I might quite suddenly say - "let's change the subject." or "I have to go now." I might quite suddenly, vigorously object to the last thing you said -- but the arc of it is this:

You have created a lengthy machine gun attack of words, and I have finally responded by running into an underground bunker and closing the door.

American Management Styles:

This old pencil sketch is from a series I made years ago, called American Management Styles. Wish I could find the rest of them.....

My three cats: the morning meeting

My three rescue cats from DAWS decided they want to hold a daily meeting. By feline decree, this meeting, sort of a greeting ceremony, should occur at the corner of the couch in the center of the living room every morning right after the human starts walking around. I don't know what happens if I move the couch. The world will probably end.

The two boys, Crow and GreyHawk scurry over, wind around my legs and each other, tails up, making funny little sounds, giving head butts and cheek rubs. At the commotion, our little cat-colony queen Fiji Phoebe, decides she really should participate and strolls over. She tries hard to make sure one of the boys is strategically positioned between her and the huge horrible human. She speaks to me, but usually only gets close enough to sniff my hand. Yesterday for the first time she allowed me to pet her during the ceremony. Progress!

DRAWING: from a writing exercise

I once belonged to a poetry writing group or two. This side-long looking doodle is what resulted while words for a writing exercise were being chosen. Yes, she is quite asymmetrical with hair askew -- and I don't care..... Though I often digitally clean up these little drawings, this one is just as exists in my little book of paper.

Originally posted (and in the present tense) on 8/15/2010