Before we begin, I would like everyone to fire up the Mormon Tabernacle Choir singing "Hallelujah"
as the soundtrack to this blog entry.
Because, honey, on Tuesday, November 29, at 10:42 am CDT, I was singing the fire out of this song, right after Tim The Genius Of The Wires came upstairs and pointed at my heating vent. And nodded.
"Is it . . ." I asked.
"That's geothermal. Right there."
It looked so different, this heat. So loamy, so earthy, so deep
. I'd never seen air like that before.
I know that Tim was tired of me asking him every fifteen minutes whether my life had changed forever. So many times he had answered, "No ma'am. You're still a knitting blogger." "No, Mrs. Shayne. You still talk to those cats." "I'm sorry, Mrs. Shayne, it's just not your time yet."
But last Tuesday, well. It was my time.
It's different now, so different. Someday, with the passage of the seasons and the increased energy efficiency of this house, maybe I'll be able to explain how. Or maybe the damn thing won't work. All I know is that something profound has happened in this house. Something profoundly tubey.
I just finished reading Willa Cather's O Pioneers!
. The weirdest guy in the book, Ivar, lives in a sod house dug into a hill on the Nebraska prairie. I wish I had read this book about four weeks ago, because Ivar figured out how to harness the earth's constant temperature in a way that probably took half as long and I'm guessing a bit less expense than this little project.
Behind the Furnace Door
As a final climax to this project, we go now into the red-hot center of this project: the furnace room. I know it's what you've been waiting for. Fasten your seatbelts.
Here's the heat pump. Please don't ask me how it works. It makes a whispery hum and looks really busy all the time.
This is the gizmo that sucks the juice through the loop that is buried in my yard. If you get too close, it will suck you in like Augustus Gloop going up the tube by the Chocolate River.
This is where you can get a mammogram, right there in my basement.
This is the tankless water heater. I promise you, there is no tank on this thing. That blue tank somehow keeps it all from blowing up. I am not going to read any more of the warning labels on this stuff. I want to forget that any of this equipment is even in my house.
This is a free bonus faucet they gave me for agreeing to install this system two weeks before Thanksgiving.
This is the scariest thing I have ever seen. Remind me never to look up again, ever. Where did those Ethernet cables come from? Is that Wikileaks guy
spying on my system?
For those of you who actually want to understand how geothermal systems work, God bless you and here's
a good description.
Thank you all for joining me on this journey of catharsis and renewal. I'll set up a GeothermCam so you can watch my system at work, 24/7. That may be the only thing more fascinating than following this saga of installation.
Meanwhile, Please Join Us for a Big Night of Knitting Fun
We're teaching a class! Here in Nashville! One night only, Feb. 28, as part of the Evening Classes at University School of Nashville
. All course fees benefit USN's scholarship fund. If you live anywhere within 500 miles, come be a part of this epic evening. We had so much fun doing this last year that we can hardly wait. Snacks, door prizes, who knows what will happen.
Registration opens tomorrow, Wednesday, December 6 at 9 am CDT. Here's
the course registration page. We're Course #710, "Composting for Fun and Profit." JUST KIDDING.
There are four other great knitting/felting classes being offered, so the clever knitter could stack up an entire winter's worth of great classes with great teachers. Plus: it's all for a good cause, which is nice.
Off to go blast the Hallelujah chorus again. Hallelujah!
PS Because it's holiday time, here's a festive boxed gift set of Mrs. Shayne's Adventures in Geothermal: