Grandma's boogedy boiler redux

Dear readers: I'm in Atlanta today for the Life@50+ Expo. Considering my inability to provide a new post today along with the fact that the temps at home in Colorado today are in the 80s yet lows for the weekend will be in the 20s — meaning it's time to turn our heat on — I'd like to share with you a fitting (slightly updated) post from the archives, one you may have missed. Enjoy!

Grandma's boogedy boiler (first published Sept. 24, 2009)

 

The first cold snap of the season has hit the mountains, bringing with it snow, the need for jackets and the kicking on of the heating system. In our house, that means it's time to brace ourselves for another season with the boogedy boiler.

I love my house. We bought it in 2007, after having lived in the same basic tri-level for 20 years. One of the main draws of the place was that it was clearly an ideal grandma and grandpa house. We didn't even have grandkids at the time of purchase, but Jim and I knew little ones (and big ones) would love to explore the many nooks and crannies inside and the secret (overgrown!) garden outside and that they'd look forward to spending time with Gramma and PawDad if for no other reason than the wild and wacky home in which we lived.

To put it mildly, we love our house ... everything but the heating system. I absolutely HATE our heating system. We have a boiler, and if you've never lived with a boiler, be thankful for what you're missing.

We first moved here in the winter so we were introduced right away to the clanging and banging of our home-heating contraption that looked like something straight out of Willie Wonka's factory. The noise was so alarming that we had a heating company look at it for us — three or four times in the first couple months! It was brand new, thanks to the red-flagging of the old boiler the week before we closed on the house, but I still envisioned explosions that would not only ruin our new home but take our lives in the middle of the night.

Again and again the heating guys assured us that it's safe, that boilers just take a little getting used to, that they add personality and character to the home.

Well, our boiler has multiple personalities, a few of which aren't too pleasant to be sharing space with.

Because our house is relatively large, there are five "zones" for the boiler, each zone taking turns coming on at different times to warm different areas of the home. Three of the personalities zones are pretty quiet and their heat cycles go unnoticed. And when the boiler kicks on in the fourth zone — which covers the downstairs family room where we watch TV — it likes to pretend it's a massive military jet taking off from our rooftop but we've learned to accommodate it, muting movies and conversation at times as we wait for the jet to be in full flight and out of hearing distance.

But it's the fifth zone, the one that covers the study just below our bedroom, that freaks me out the most ... every night ... while I'm falling asleep. This is the zone where the boiler's worst personality makes its presence known.

Each night as I finish reading, set my book aside on the nightstand and settle in under the covers, it starts. There's a bit of a rumbling, a wheezy, heavy, asthmatic monster-like breathing sound ... that gets louder ... and louder ... and LOUDER.

"I'll huff and I'll puff and I'll blow your house down! Mwahahahahahaha...!" it threatens ... and drones on ... and on ... for several minutes.

Then comes the loud, "Boogedy, boogedy, boogedy! Bang. Bang! Clang, clang. Bang. BANG!! click."

Just like that, the boogedy boiler stops. Instantly.

Just as I'm reaching near hysteria and considering waking Jim (who doesn't even notice!) to shout that he HAS TO go see what's happening with the boiler, there's a simple "click" and it's quiet. And I breathe easy ... and I think I must be crazy for worrying that my house is going to explode when all the expert HVAC guys have told me it's nothing to worry about.

Things are quiet ... and I start to fall asleep.

Then Mr. Boogedy Boiler decides to warm things up a bit again, and the whole show starts over. And I hold my breath and long for hot summer nights when my only complaint is that air-conditioning sure would be nice.

And I think about what a good thing it is that the grandkids will likely spend more time at Gramma and PawDad's house during the hot and sweaty nights of summer — considering summer vacations and all — than they will in the winter. 

For if they were to visit in the winter, this grandma's boogedy boiler would surely scare the holy bejeezus out of them.

It certainly does me.

Today's question:

When will you turn on your heating system for the season?

14 things I love about October... plus one thing I hate

My shortlisted October loves... in no particular order:

1. The sun has shifted south. Whereas summer months had the sun blazing into my window first thing in the morning demanding I rise and shine, now the mellowed sunrise fills my room with a pink glow that soon changes to golden. The gentle light begins my day with a caramelly richness unlike any other time of the year.

2. The windows can be opened during the day without consequence. Fresh autumn air fills each floor, each room, each nook and cranny.

3. Pumpkins. Glorious pumpkins.

4. Blankets. Extra covers have been added to the beds, making them all the more perfect for snuggling under with a good book before lights out.

5. Football in full force. Though I know diddly — and only diddly — about the game, I enjoy the gatherings of family, food and fun that focus on the sport. And I love hearing my oldest spout stats and such about the sport, outsmarting every football fan in the room.

6. Honeycrisp apples and homemade caramel dip never tasted better.

7. The autumn palette. The colors of fall comfort me so, they're the scheme I painted my family room for year round pleasure.

8. My grandsons have a starring role. I see my grandsons every October, the only month in which a visit has become a sure thing.

9. Lady In White. October is the perfect time — the only time — to watch this fall favorite of mine.

10. The primary regional guessing game regarding first snow. No matter the age or how jaded, residents up and down Colorado's Front Range predict and prognosticate on when the first measurable amount will arrive. Easy rapport and conversation anywhere you go.

11. The secondary regional guessing game, this one on Halloween coverups. Parents up and down the Front Range must predict and prognosticate... and figure out how to incorporate a jacket (and hat and mittens and boots, too) into kids' holiday costumes. Love this only because I no longer need to worry about this.

12. Dancing leaves. On the trees, in the street, on the rooftops.

13. Candle-lighting season. The scented candles come out, filling the house with Home Sweet Home, Pumpkin Spice, Cinnamon Stick.

14. The potential to experience three seasons in one month. Depending on the day and Mother Nature's mood, October in Colorado can feel like the hottest of summers, the coldest of winters and the finest of fall — all in a span of 10 days or so.

Plus the one — the only — thing I hate about October:

The month lasts only 31 days, which I find so very unfair.

 

Today's question:

What do you love about October? What do you hate?

Celebrating no celebrations

For my oldest daughter's first birthday, I went all out. I recruited my mom to make a fancy birthday cake with adorable clowns o' frosting a la the Wilton Cake Decorating Cookbook, invited everyone with even the slightest interest in my daughter, packed our tiny apartment with well wishers and gifts galore.

It was the very best birthday party ever.

Until the next year, that is. And until the next child, too — two more of which arrived in rapid succession. Followed by two more first birthdays in equally rapid succession.

With that very first first birthday party for my very first daughter more than 31 years ago, I had set a precedent: Birthday parties in my house would be a big deal. Not expensive, for money was tight as could be considering we were a young family with three children birthed in a three-year span. But the birthday parties would certainly be festive. Each and every time.

Birthdays for my daughters were celebrated at home — no parties at pizza places, skating spaces or swimming pools. Each party had a specific theme chosen by the honoree, with homemade cakes, homemade favors for guests to bring home, homemade fun packaged in such a manner my daughters (hopefully) never realized their special days were celebrated at home because we couldn't afford the party packages offered by the fancy-schmancy peddlers of commercialized fun.

Fun as they were for the birthday girls and guests, that homemade packaging was exhausting for Mom. That would be me — the family party planner bound and determined to make memorable birthday moments for my daughters, come hell or high water, heaven help us all.

One birthday season when I was knee-deep in pre-party prep and freak-out fare — at this point I can no longer recall whose birthday or what theme — my own mom, in hopes of assuaging my stress, advised me, "You don't have to make every single birthday special, Lisa."

I disagreed vehemently... but silently, as I had too much to do, no time to argue my point. But, yes, I did have to make every single birthday special. Because there are so very few that parents get to celebrate with a child. Sixteen or so, if we're lucky, if friends don't win out over family sooner than that.

So I did my best to make birthday celebrations special.

I did my best to make holiday celebrations special, too. Everything from Valentine's Day on through New Year's Day featured special traditions and rituals, special food, special decorations and sometimes even special music. As was the case with our birthday celebrations throughout the childrearing years, our holiday celebrations were never expensive but they were festive. And memorable. And the stuff our family was made of.

And they were exhausting for Mom. That would be me, the holiday planner bound and determined to make memorable holiday moments for my daughters, come hell or high water, heaven help us all.

Little did I realize then how very few holidays I'd have to celebrate with my entire clan. I thought that even once the nest emptied, every child-turned-adult would flock home to celebrate the seasons with Mom and Dad, spouses and offspring in tow.

I've since realized how wrong that idea. Thankfully, though, how right it turned out to be that I did do the best I could each and every holiday while my girls lived at home. Because there were so few of those, too.

The big shebangs had their place, their heyday, but now the celebrations are smaller, in scope and in attendance. Celebrations take less work, yet they still require work.

That required work for birthday and holiday celebrations — exhaustive overloads in the past, minor smidgens today —  is one reason fall has long been my favorite time of year. The months of September and October, to be exact. Because during the months of September and October there isn't a single birthday, a single holiday I'm expected to celebrate. Nothing to plan or purchase or poke-my-eye-out-with-a-hot-poker-because-I-need-a-freakin'-break-from-special-celebrations sort of nonsense. None.

See, as much as I love my family and would now indeed poke my eye out to have them around again for family celebrations and to occasionally fill my (occasionally heart achingly) empty nest, I also love down time. Quiet time. Uneventful time. Time such as September 1 through October 30. Time with no celebrations. No celebrations is, for me, reason enough to celebrate.

True to my character, my past, my family-party-planning-personality, of course, I plan to make that celebration of no celebrations as absolutely special and memorable as possible.

By doing ab-so-lute-ly nothing.*

Happy No-Celebration season to you and yours! May it be everything you hoped it would be. And everything you hoped it would not be, too.

*Well, nothing related to celebrations, that is. The need for speed in securing income remains.

Today's question:

When is the biggest span of time with no birthdays/holidays/celebrations in your family?

Picture this: Summer's B-side

Caught in the act: Crafty critters staking a claim in summer's sweet spots.

Today's fill-in-the-blank:

The sweetest spot for me this summer has been _____________.