Friday was the day from hell for me, and not because of that threatened strike by protesters of all things American.
It began early in the day, with gold and silver prices falling out of bed after having run mightily in recent weeks and months.
As I was sorting through that mentally, a monstrous decline that would see $40,000-plus shaved off my net worth on Friday alone, I went outside to shovel show, expanding the walkways and clearing my mind.
Then my wife dashed out on the rear deck and yelled that we had to talk.
It turns out she had gone downstairs to find our furnace spewing hot water from the pressure relief valve. She called our plumber, left a message, and sat around waiting.
Meanwhile, I called another local plumbing company, one that had done work for my mother over the years. They’d be happy to help — in about four weeks.
No, they were not participating in an anti-ICE strike. They just are extremely busy because this sustained cold snap (whatever happened to global warming?) means furnaces are breaking down in protest, much as mine had done.
I might add as an aside that granddaughter no. 3 had come down with an illness diagnosed as some strain of the flu about mid-week, had spent a couple of days here being watched by my wife and, yes, I was beginning to feel I had borrowed her malady.
When it rains, it pours. Or, at this time of year, when it snows, it’s a blizzard.
By Friday afternoon, I was desperate for a bit of good news. That came when the plumbing company my wife had called got back to us that a man was on the way. So, they weren’t on strike, either.
After about an hour here, he left with our old expansion tank in tow and presumably all was well. That relief valve might need replaced, though.
I don’t know what this plumbing visit will end up costing me, but it’s nothing compared to the Friday gold and silver massacre, and I’m sure I’d have paid multiples of the bill just to guarantee I had heat in the house on what was predicted to be a minus-7 night.
When I’d talked to the woman at the plumbing company that needed a month to get here, we’d discussed a potential problem of abnormally high water pressure as indicated by a gauge on the furnace.
It turns out I was reading the gauge wrong. But I stayed up until 4:30 a.m. Saturday, keeping track of the pressure and temperature of the furnace’s water supply.
The plumbing guys were back Saturday morning to replace the relief valve, but I took my wife’s word for it because I’ve basically been plastered to a bed in my son’s former room very sick and attempting not to spread it to the wife.
My feverish brain hoped against hope that the furnace would be fixed. I can worry about the gold and silver next week.
In a bit or irony, I saw I’d missed a call from my brother. I called him back and found out he’d had heating problems at his apartment, too. Misery loves company.
At about 8 p.m. Saturay night, it was as though a curtain had been lifted. Suddenly, after napping for an hour or so, I felt better and trudged down the stairs sorted though my mail and began to write this blog entry.
Trust me, if you had a bad day Friday, it pales in comparison to my day.
But, things are looking up now. I hope.
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