Mister Fixit

This morning, I woke up early. I'm happy to say we had an active evening, in celebration of Valentine's Day, so it's not because I couldn't sleep soundly (such evenings almost always make for sound sleep). ;)

No, something was wrong. As I woke up, I realized what it was. It felt cold in the room. Too cold to be explained by the strong winds and cold temperatures outside. In such weather, certain rooms of the house sometimes get too cold, since the temp near the thermostat may be different from those rooms (outside walls, windows, etc., play a role, even in a recently remodeled house).

But this wasn't just a couple of degrees. It was truly cold. I got out of bed and checked the nearest thermometer. 61 degrees. Okay, that's not right. I opened the door and went to the thermostat in the hallway. It said the temperature there was 63 degrees. Not good. So I stepped into the bathroom and touched the nearest baseboard. Cold to the touch. Bingo. No heat.

Wonderful. So we'd probably have to wait for the plumber.

Before doing that, however, I decided to see if I could manage to get things fixed myself, preferably without blowing up the house. (On tonight's "News at 11," we go live to the scene of a house explosion on Long Island. Officials think some dumbass tried to fix the furnace himself…)

Clearly, I couldn't do anything too complicated. Still, why not go kick the tires? :)

So down I went. I took off the cover of the furnace. (Yes, that much I know how to do.) It clearly wasn't firing. It is an efficient, but high-output, model, and you can tell when it's running. It doesn't roar like an oil-fired furnace, but the whoosh of it is clearly audible with the cover on, let alone with the face of it open.

So what now? Well, I noticed some writing on the inside of the cover. It had a long list of items under a heading containing the word "Instructions." Now, I know this word. "Instructions" is a Latin word meaning, "never read these." And I'm normally steadfast in my conviction to follow that warning. But we were desperate.

Marc went to get a flashlight and some matches (matches are always exciting to have around when dealing with natural gas). Then I dared to read these mysterious and frightening "Instructions."

I removed a plate inside the furnace, so I could see the actual burners. I followed each step, shutting the power to the unit, setting the control knob to "Pilot," lighting a match and then holding the red button. *cue ominous music*

I brought the lit match in closer, and then the house exploded, we were killed and I’m blogging from the next life and then held it near where the pilot was supposed to be. Lo and behold, it lit! Yay!

I continued to hold the red button down for a full minute (that was one of the listed steps). When I released it, the pilot stayed lit. That was a good sign. I then replaced the aforementioned plate that goes in front of the burners, turned the control knob to the on position (as opposed to "Pilot") and turned the power to the furnace back on. With that, it gave an audible whoosh, and we listened as it ran up to full power. (It's really amazing how much power this thing has.)

About an hour later, as we finished getting ready for work, the house, parts of which (like the library and sunroom) had gone down into the 50s, was almost back to the preset temps. Most importantly, the upstairs—where we were getting showered and dressed—was at a comfy 68 degrees. Like I said, it's a powerful furnace (when it's running!).

I just hope the problem doesn't repeat itself. Since I was able to fix it myself, I think it was a fluke (or a flounder or something like that). We had high winds last night. It's possible that a gust down the chimney blew out the pilot light when the main burners were off. The pilot's so small that that's probably possible. Since it has a damper that closes when it's not running, that's not likely to happen, but it could occur during the times when the burner is coming on (and the damper is opening before it fires) or when it has just gone off (so the damper is closing but not yet closed fully).

Yes, that's a completely uneducated guess, but it makes sense. It's also partly a prayer. A prayer, because I don’t want this to happen again!

Update: So much for that. When we got home, it was cold in the house. The furnace was out again. So I re-lit it again (and the house has warmed up), but we called a plumber, too. He's here now, seeing if he can figure out what's wrong.