I’ve lived in this house for less than a month, and I’ve already learned SO much about what to look for in our next house. Thank the Lord that nothing major has happened, but I didn’t expect any of this:
1) On moving day, we noticed that one of the railings on the front porch is broken. As in it is broken in multiple pieces and was lying on the lawn. How we or the inspector missed this is beyond me. My father-in-law glued it back together for us temporarily.
2) Last Thursday we came home at around 7:00 pm after having dinner with my in-laws. The house was suspiciously cold, so I went to check the thermostat and noticed it was only 57 degrees inside. Odd. I turned it up and nothing happened. Hubby walked over and looked at it and decided to turn it off and back on again. I went down to the basement to listen to the furnace. It was silent. It kicked in when he turned the heat back on, but it wouldn’t light. I did what any married 30-year-old woman would do: I called my daddy. He came over and confirmed that there was definitely something wrong and he called my uncle (who is not really a blood-related uncle, but family nonetheless) who is licensed to deal with these sorts of things. He took one look and told us we needed a new igniter and gave us a phone number to call. We made it through the night thanks to our wondrous electric blankets, and then I started making phone calls in the morning.
I talked to 4 or 5 places who all acted as though I must be some kind of moron just because I’m a woman. I’m surprised they didn’t ask to speak to my husband or father, that’s how degrading they were. I stopped myself from reaching through the phone and throat-punching them and finally gave up and called the furnace guy. One hundred sixty five dollars later and we had heat again. He was also very nice and showed me the parts and told me what he was doing.
3) This morning my husband woke me up at some ungodly hour (read: any time before 8:30) and informed me that we didn’t have any hot water. I thought I remembered how to light the pilot on the water heater, so I trudged down to the basement, still half-asleep. When I got in the laundry room, I noticed a small puddle of water next to the water heater. It was in an odd location, and it was kind of discolored, so I knelt down and smelled it – I thought maybe the cat got stuck in there and peed on the floor. Nope, no smell. So I took the panel off the front of the heater and saw that the pilot was definitely out, and I also noticed a puddle of water directly under the heater. I took a picture on my phone and texted it to my dad. It wouldn’t go through, so I called him and told him the situation, to which he responded, “Oh no. I’ll be right over.” Not very encouraging.
Long story short, we needed a new water heater. My uncle once again came to rescue and took me to Home Depot to pick one out, along with all the other parts he’d need to install it. SIX HUNDRED SIXTY SIX DOLLARS and eight hours later, we had hot water again. I am forcing myself to see the silver lining, which is that the whole thing could have rusted out and we could have had fifty gallons of water in the basement.