Hunting Super Mutants while freezing my ass off and suffering from Wii Shoulder…

It’s been an interesting week to say the least here at the old homestead.

Sunday (Jan 25, 2009) our 49 year old oil burning furnace decided to stop working. My wife noticed it around 8:30 pm and asked me why it it was 61 degrees in the house. I took a look at the thermostat, tried raising the temp, and got nothing. When the furnace kicks on, you can hear it on the second floor. You can feel it on the first floor.

So I went down into the basement to see what was up with old Bessie (I have no clue why it’s called old Bessie, any more than I know why my puppy is named Ms. Autumn Cuddles Snugglepuppy III). Flipping the emergency shut off switches did nothing. Staring at the water level intently illicited no positive reaction, or any reaction for that matter, from the furnace. Looking at the oil pump, I spied a reset switch that might help.

I flipped the emergency shut off switch to the off position and then pressed reset button. After a quick prayer to the Sumerian Goddess of Oil Furnaces and Bunny Rabbits (who’s name is Bes’si, by the way), I flipped the shut off switch to on. I was rewarded with a somewhat familiar sound of the oil pump kicking in. My smile died away as I realized that the furnace had not ignited, and was just spraying oil into the chamber.

I killed the shut off switch, and told my wife the bad news. There was no one to call that night, so we needed to wait until the morning. So we bundled up and went to bed. Puppies make wonderful bed warmers.

Que the asscrack of dawn, 4:30 am. It’s now 41 degrees in the house and we cannot wait to get to work where it is warm.

This is starting to get long, so I’ll speed it up a little.

We called around and everyone said that unless you buy oil from us, we cannot help you (bastards). Our oil company’s phone was busy for 2 1/2 hours. When we finally got through they gave us another number to call. We called them and they said they would send someone out right away.

An hour later we find out that the igniter and the transformer are shot, and the furnace needs adjusting. $291.50 later, everything is fixed, the furnace is blasting away merrily, and the house is heating up. When I get home, I find it a balmy 72 degrees (I usually have it set to 68 during the day and 62 at night).

Reveling in the glorious heat, I spent a couple of hours hunting super mutants in a post apocalyptic wasteland.

Around 7:30 pm my wife comes and asked me to look at the furnace again. With my heart sinking, I went down to old bessie and checked her out. Nothing was working. I went through the whole rigamarole above and with a prayer to the Persian Goddess of Oil Fueled Heating Devices and Woman’s Support Garments (who is incidentally named B’hesy).

I ended up with the exact same result as before. A lot of vaporized oil, no ignition, and another cold ass night.

Long story short (too late for that), we called the next day. The guy came out, admitted he screwed up by not adjusting the igniter correctly after moving it to check for correct air flow. Within 5 minutes, the furnace was blazing, and all was good in my world.

I have to hand it to the guy for being honest with us. He could have easily duped us by say that the igniter had burned out, and it need to be replaced along with the part that made it burn out. He could have easily charged us another $300 or more. But he didn’t, and for that I will use him to install our new furnace when Bessie finally gives up the ghost, she is pushing 50 after all.

Reveling in the glorious heat, I spent a couple of hours hunting super mutants in a post apocalyptic wasteland.

A couple of day before all this mess, my wife and I finally broke down and purchased a Wii. What an interesting console! I love the wireless controls, and how it connects to the internet. Well it wasn’t long before we picked up a second Wiimote and another game. My wife and I wanted to get Animal Crossing: City Folk, but since my son was actually purchasing the game he got final say. He ended up buying Rayman’s Raving Rabbids, which is a hilarously cute game with psychotic rabbits.

The one thing I learned playing with the wiimote (especially with the nunchuck attached) you use a lot of  arm movement. Between playing golf, bowling, and dancing with insane rodents, I have developed a malady which I call Wii Shoulder. In a nutshell, my shoulder hurts and I blame the Wii. Making me swing my arms around like a mad man, it ought to be ashamed.

Recuperating, I spent a couple of hours hunting super mutants in a post apocalyptic wasteland.

Next time I post, I’ll tell you all about the Super Mutants… if I don’t spend all my time hunting them.



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