After doing a good bit of research online as to brands and prices, I finally went to a shop in the local town of Dungarvan and settled on a kettle and toaster. When I got home, it was all I could do to contain my excitement at getting the kettle out of the box. I had to run it through the boil cycle twice before actually making tea in the pot I’d brought from home in the States.
But it was SO worth it!!
I also had to buy a saucepan at the shop. I had brought one with me with the intention of being able to boil water before getting the aforementioned kettle. But, alas, that was not to be.
Apparently my new kitchen has an induction cooktop. What is that, you ask?
I have no idea.
All I know is it is some new-fangled thing and you cannot use typical cookware on it. It simply won’t turn on if it doesn’t “recognize” the bottom of the pot. What is that about?
And Farberware is not recognizable.
Which means that I have an entire box of cookware enroute from the States – none of which will work on my stovetop. That prospect does not make me happy.
But that is a problem for another day.
Friday afternoon plumber? Not likely…
As I sat, late on Friday afternoon, enjoying my long-awaited cuppa, I searched for a telephone number for the plumber whose name I had been given. I knew that it was unlikely that I would even reach anyone at this point, but I thought I’d try to get something set up for early next week.
Imagine my surprise when not only did a real voice answer the phone, but he told me he was not far away, knew where my house was, and would stop by before he finished for the day. No promises that it could be fixed, as the parts might not be available so late in the day, but he’d have a look.
One of the many reasons I love Ireland.
15 minutes later, he was in my yard.
When he spotted the furnace (which remember is outside), he stopped dead in his tracks. “This is very old,” he said. I think he was trying to be nice. “But let’s have a look.”
It took a hacksaw to undo the frozen bolts. I knew that was a bad sign.
He got the thing fired up and we chatted a bit as it began to heat. After about 5 minutes, he said, “The oil man is going to be your best friend.” I must have looked puzzled because he added,“This should be burning my hand by now. And I can still touch it.”
He then proceeded to explain the physics of heat loss. (Is it physics? I’m a language gal.) And even though I studied Latin rather than Physics, I know what heat loss is. And I could see it happening here. Right before my eyes. Heat was escaping from that boiler everywhere!
While it was continuing to heat, he took me inside to show me how everything worked. Up the stairs to the hot press – with that large copper kettle that looks like it should be brewing whiskey. Except that this one should be insulated. Of course the newer ones are. The good news is that I can buy an insulation jacket for it.
That is now high on my list of priorities.
There is a timer so that the furnace will come on automatically to heat water for sink or bath – provided the switch is turned on. So one must be on (and not off!) and the other must be set to sink or bath – depending on where I want the hot water.
However, at the same time that it is heating the water, all the radiators in the house come one. Now Irish houses – especially older ones – are notoriously damp and can be chilly. And even in summer it is not really hot – so a little heat isn’t necessarily a bad thing. But what if I didn’t want them all on?
I would have to go ‘round and turn off each individual radiator. And some, I realized, didn’t have valves.
Hmmm.
You’ve gotta be an engineer
Information was coming fast and furious and I was desperately trying to process it all. And get all my questions answered at the same time.
What about the downstairs shower? That is a power shower. Electric. Works off a pull switch in the ceiling. Pull the cord, the electric shower comes on – instant hot water. Different system than the boiler outside and in the hotpress.
Oh.
But then in the kitchen, under the counter, is another timer. What does that do?
Once we set the time of day correctly, that seemed to come on. If the light is red, the furnace is going. Press the button to turn it off, the furnace stops. Easy enough.
So every time I want to heat water, I need to turn on the furnace to heat it. And the aged furnace is burning about 1.6 litres of oil per hour. A new one would burn about .6 litres per hour, heat in about ¼ the time and pay for itself within two years. Plus I’d have lots more hot water.
I didn’t have to think about that for too long to make a decision.
So next week, I’m getting a shiny new boiler/furnace. Because I don’t want to be cold, and – call me pampered – I like having hot water. And it’ll still be outside – ‘cause they are made that way.
Go figure.