Homeowner logic, the new oxymoron

Sometimes, as a homeowner, you just feel like an idiot.

I think that's actually part of the deed process - you need to sign over your rights to common sense and logic until you've lived at the deeded property for a while.

Heating, cooling, what light switch goes with which outlet, etc. These things can leave you in a daze of new homeowner WTFs.

For instance, today I present to you a lesson in heating your home.


My kids wore long sleeve shirts with heavy homemade sweaters over them yesterday because it was a whopping 50 degrees outside. The inside of the house? Yeah, 62 degrees. Do you know what little feet feel like when they're suddenly stuck to the inside of your once warm thigh in the middle of the night when you live in the frozen tundra of New York? Effing cold. That's what they feel like. Pretty sure they could numb wounds with their frigid digits.

Now, mind you, I've spent weeks tinkering with the thermostat trying to get the heat to kick on in preparation of winter - you know, so I could make sure it worked - and nothing. Not even so much as a little hiccup to say there was warmth available. The magnificent Boy Wonder has fiddled with the thermostat; my father-in-law changed the batteries in one of the mechanisms (which did fix one issue, but it wasn't the "I'm freezing" concerns I had).

Yesterday I'd had enough. I wore socks all day. Anyone who knows me knows I'd rather end up with hypothermia than wear socks inside before there's at least a few inches of snow on the ground. The EdenPURE heater was cranked up and ran for the entire day. Josephine complained that she was cold! That was a sure sign we needed to fix this issue.

When the Boy arrived home, I firmly lodged my complaint and questioned everything from the amount of fuel oil to breakers. Smartass finally went to the basement, into the crawl space and emerged victorious after a moment. Seriously, I waited with bated breath. His announcement of "there ya go" kind of left me in awe, like I had married the world's most amazing handyman.

I asked him what he did.

"I turned the furnace on."

I could have killed him.

Weeks, people, weeks I have been asking about the furnace and the heat and how low the thermostat needed to drop before the damn thing kicked on. I didn't go check the actual furnace because Lord knows I would probably electrocute myself on something. Not to mention, at the other house, I seriously had only to turn the thermostat to "heat" and if it was chilly enough the furnace would kick on.

Simply put, I feel like a moron - not only do I not know the first thing about fuel oil and woodstoves, but apparently I'm too simpleminded to realize the whole shebang had an "on/off" switch.

At least the house is a comfortable 65ish degrees now. I don't feel entirely like death this morning. I can continue refusing to wear socks while inside for a bit longer.

It's the little things that keep me happy.