Furnaces, Insulation and Other Tales To Warm The Heart

Before I start, there is something you need to understand. Leon and I were trained as Music Theatre Actors. This means our expertise lies in projecting whimsical fancy and effervescent charm while floating up brightly lit staircases wrapped in fluffy boas. At no point has anyone ever spoken to us of 92% AFUE qualified gas furnaces or R 13.5/RSI 2.4 fiberglass insulation. You'll now understand why I might be so bold to start this blog post with a statement as dramatic as:

I have no idea what we were thinking to have purchased a house that was built in 1920. Actually, I do know what we were thinking. We were thinking that the white picket fence was as adorable as it was cliche and that the home had an overall good 'feel'. We were imagining the day that Leon would sweep me up off my feet and carry me in over the threshold of our very own house with all its old quirks and charm and that we would spend our days lovingly renovating while we passionately embraced.

Six weeks after crossing the threshold for the first time, our passionate embraces have become the result of the emotional trauma that has been inflicted by our furnace replacement estimates. We were so proud of ourselves for applying for every retrofit grant that we could get our hands on. When we got our letter telling us just how much money we would be reimbursed for our upgrades we squealed in delight. Now, it seems, that money will be just about enough to cover a couple of new ducts and a union coffee break. How will we pay for the rest? I am not sure. I'd offer a barter but something tells me that very few plumbers are looking to have me sing Cole Porter tunes while gaily prancing about in their living room.

If only the humiliation ended there. Yesterday, Leon got inspired to do some insulating. Let's go to Castle, he urged. Always thrilled when my partner wants to take on tasks that I would rather poke dull forks into my eyeballs than do myself, I sped off to our local hardware store. "Do you know what you are looking for?" I asked my future husband. "Nope," replied my ever optimistic fiance, "but I'll just ask."

So we hunted down a friendly lookin' chap to service us. Leon stared him right in the eye and asked "do you have any of that pink stuff?" "Pink stuff," the salesman repeated, obviously confused. "It's squishy." Leon offered, confident that this would clear up any fogginess. But the salesman just stood there, probably not knowing how to reply without deeply offending us. "I need a batt," continued Leon, and I silently wished for the same thing, if only to knock us both out and end this misery.

"Oh!! You mean insulation!' saved the sales guy, finally catching on. Then he asked us - well, to be fair he asked Leon - "will you be needing R-20 to fit the band joists in a 2x6 stud wall?" My heart went out to Leon in that moment. Since moving to Moose Jaw, men have asked Leon all sorts of questions, expecting that, due to his genitalia, he is somehow going to know what the heck they are all talking about. How are they supposed to know that the closest Leon has ever come to home renovations was that one day when he accidentally flipped to Holmes on Homes on HGTV. One thing my boy can do is act, though, and so without missing a beat he gave the man an answer, articulating his guess with the panache of an expert. Chalk one up for the theatre degree.

In the end, we got our batt insulation and have scheduled an appointment with a small loans officer to discuss paying for our new 92% AFUE qualified gas furnace. Until it is installed and we figure out where to jam the pink stuff we have purchased slippers from Walmart and are wearing many layers of BC fleece.

And maybe a boa or two around our necks for extra warmth.