First a shout out to Maplewood Car Wash. Rubber Duck says there is nothing that makes the day just a little bit sunnier than driving around in a shiny vehicle. And you may ask, “Paul, is that an environmentally sound decision to drive a half ton Pick Up Truck?” and my reply is I rescued close to 5,000 pounds of over 16 year old iron so I put the “Reuse and Recycle” into my tree hugging thank you very much.
Then I shovel the front porch so maybe I can get my girl scout cookies delivered. They were unwilling to throw the boxes over the snow drift. And shovel out the oil tank intake but I look at the propane tank (or rather do not look since it is invisible under a fifteen foot drift) and think, “screw that.”
But my first “honey do” Sunday morning is something is wrong with the hot water. Wrong as in, not very hot. Shoot, out of propane? But the stove fires up. I look at water heater. My analytical mind quickly narrows down problem to the exhaust fan is not making the correct noise. The centrifugal fan is usually making a “WEEEEE” noise only it is making a lowercase “ummm” noise. six screws later I find my problem.
A mouse! How did she get there? As I was shoveling the bulkhead doors to cellar just yesterday I was looking a the exhaust port and marveling at the nice job of installation because they put wire mesh in the opening. But inside there is a cooling port for the fan motor that looks like this.
A few minutes sticking needles in it and if Mister Mouse can get past this he might be small enough to take a ride and get the full Space Mountain E ticket.
Why Mickey, why? Long story but it is because I did not follow Bill Rowell’s suggestion (Burrhead Oil Rockport) and wrap some insulation on my exposed oil line and it got sluggish and my furnace died and my house was wicked chilly when we got here on Friday and the mouse needed to find a warm place. Speaking of Burrhead, have you ever said, “You gotta start charging me for these emergency visits Bill”. All he did was teach me how to prime and jump start my furnace myself. Bill also cracks me up with his growing up in Rockport stories but I will stop there before we both get into trouble.
Good Morning Gloucester 