The ancient contraption that heated my house died in November. More specifically, the blower fan died, so although the furnace would produce heat, the heat would slowly seep through the house like syrup rather than forcefully fill each room with its presence. The estimate options were $2,000 for a new furnace or $500 for a custom-built piece to make the blower work again. So I have a new furnace.

I thought it amusing to show some pictures of the old one. The only documentation on it is a tag from the utilities district dated 1967, so it was at least 40 years old (the repairman guessed 50). Rather than using standard filters of any sort, it had a large metal basket thingy over which one layered fiberglass from a roll (cut with a utility knife to fit). Inevitably I would end up with fiberglass shards in my fingers or fiberglass dust in the air (horribly healthy, I'm sure), and once I got the fiberglass itself caught in the blower fan. The basket slid into the bottom of the furnace, underneath the blower. The new one takes standard, rectangular cardboard-edge filters, which will be far more convenient (plus I'm not sure I'd have been able to find more of the roll-out fiberglass when I ran out - I "inherited" the roll I had when I bought the house).

I also got a new programmable digital thermostat to replace the unreliable analog one in my dining room. The old one had ADD. Setting it to 55 left the temperature around 50, but raising it to 60 would cause it to run until the house was around 67. The new one is much friendlier. Supposedly the higher energy efficiency (92% vs. 64%) should save money over the long run, although I'm dubious that it will "pay for itself in a few years" as the ads claim.

Labels: furnace

Is your kitchen bland, with ugly, diffuse lighting from the 1930s? Are you amenable to cursing to yourself at 3 a.m. when projects don't go quite right? Then have we got a project for you!

I've wanted to change the lighting in my kitchen for awhile (the light was washed out and the counters were dim), and I finally convinced myself it was a project I could do on my own with minimal hassle (as opposed to, say, refining my hardwood floors . . .). I discussed the merits of recessed lighting vs. track lighting with Lisa for several days (she's a fan of recessed lighting), and finally settled on track lighting for two reasons: (a) it's far less hassle, given that installing recessed lighting in an insulated plaster ceiling involves special heat-resistant fixtures and cutting actual holes in the ceiling itself (no takebacks) and (b) I found a kit on sale (this, by the way, is an incredible site if you're looking for new lighting; two thumbs up, really).

The kit came on a Friday. I didn't get to it until a Sunday, at which point the "idyllic afternoon project" evaporated. My first problem involved locating the proper circuit in the circuit box; they're not labeled. I killed seven circuits before I found the right one, so then I had to reset all my clocks. I unpacked the track kit (this differs from traditional "track lighting" in that it's all self-contained and non-upgradeable; true track lighting is a system that allows for the addition or subtraction of lights because the track itself carries electricity), then removed the ceiling fixture. Then I cursed a bit and had to retrieve my Bluetooth headset so I could talk to my dad while I was on the ladder looking at the wires (after calling around to find him; luckily he was with Haley, who had her phone). The ceiling fixture is so old that its wiring didn't match the new diagrams. But with some helpful fatherly advice I managed to connect the track kit (with instructions not to mess with it again until he comes to visit and runs new wire for it). Then I cursed some more, since the design of the kit makes it extremely difficult to wire it and mount it flush against the ceiling at the same time; there's just not enough room to maneuver screw drivers and wires inside the casing. My arms were aching by the time I *finally* connected it 40 minutes later. Then I held my breath and turned the breaker back on, and voila! New omnidirectional halogen lighting.

It took me a few days to adjust to the new lighting; it's "uneven" (it has several focal points and dimmer areas between), which creates more "mood" but also makes it seem closer. I finally decided I liked it, although I don't leave the kitchen lights on for hours anymore (halogens give off a *lot* of heat). On the up side, I can reposition the lights if I want to redirect more light to a specific point, but I have to use a potholder to do it.

The next step was to replace the decorative woodwork above the sink. If you're into that style of decoration, more power to you, but it doesn't fit my personality. The woodwork hid a fluorescent fixture (that I honestly forgot was there) that I've decided to utilize more to help offset the uneven light of the track kit (replacing the "bright white" fluorescent bulbs with "warm" kitchen and bath bulbs helped immensely). And then, like deja vu, came the wrath of a ghost irate that I'm changing his house. Despite the fact that this piece of wood was non-structural and non-loadbearing (and in fact had to support nothing more than its own weight), it was secured with 4 two-inch-long nails and frelling *glue* all along the top edge. Since this would never have occurred to me, I pulled the four nails and then pried until it popped loose (thinking it was just wedged), resulting in some cracked plaster that is covered for now but will probably have to be respackled eventually. The retired guy who lived here before me secured things *way* too well.

Old stuff gone, on to the new. I bought an identical wall-mounted votive holder to the one in my bedroom at Hobby Lobby specifically for this project (I dithered over what to put in that space for weeks, ranging from designs cut in wood to antique wooden grills off eBay, and finally went with this because I already liked the design; then I considered cutting it in half or just cutting out the center circle, but eventually it was just easier to leave it in one piece). I traced the top half onto plywood and cut it out with an orbital jigsaw (I don't really know what the difference is between an orbital jigsaw and a regular jigsaw, other than $20, but I just like saying "orbital"). The wood covered one-half of the medallion, leaving the bottom half open to let light from the fluorescent fixture through. Of course there was some painting (the wood matches the cabinets; the medallion matches the cabinet hardware). In the meantime I'd bought several sheets of translucent vellum paper at a crafts store, and when the paint was dry and the parts assembled I spent about an hour carefully cutting out geometrical wedges that aligned with the cross bars and taping them in place (so from the front there are no seams). This was a pain in the ass. But the results looked pretty good.

Mounting the medallion was straightforward, just requiring three screws through the plywood into studs behind it (and then a little paint over the screws). It did, however, create the problem that, unlike before, from the sides one could see the fluorescent fixture. This is bad. So after some pondering and a couple of test cuts, I finally devised a very odd-looking geometric shape (in the process leaving behind some even stranger debris) that fills in the gaps unless you *really* look and in the process gives the space between the cabinets more of an arch feel without blocking light behind the medallion. The final result is definitely the focal point of the kitchen now (whether I wanted it to be or not).

Almost as an afterthought, I ordered some "Dot Lights" from Amazon to use as undercabinet lighting (optimally such lights would be wired and much brighter, but that involves wiring which leaves me out; in my defense, my cabinets are so low that real undercabinet lighting would only benefit me slightly, so these are more for decoration than anything). Dot Lights are like those old touch lights "as seen on tv" that every dollar store has been carrying for years, except these are four times as expensive and use three LED lights instead of the cheaper bulbs in the touch lights. I mounted three under each set of cabinets, and although they look impressive with the lights off, I don't know that they actually do anything with the lights on other than provide some ambient blue-ish light on the countertops.

The end result is an entirely new lighting system.

The complete suite of pictures is here.

It's been more than half a year; time to update this (I know, I need to update it more often).

I "refinished" (if such a word can be applied to the act of spray painting) my front door and yard lamp to match the railing. Then I spent an evening converting the dirty panes of glass in my yard light into something slightly more elegant. Let me know what you think.

I was right, Linens'N'Things loved me, to the tune of a hundred bucks for curtains. I couldn't find a pattern that made me ecstatic, but this one isn't that bad. I finished moving all of my furniture and plants back into the nook, including the greenhouse (in the corner) that Scott and Lisa's family gave me several years ago (it finally has a home). I put the table my mom has graciously loaned me in the middle for now, although I'm not sure if I'm going to leave it there or not. Scott and Lisa gave me the microwave cart in the corner (I think it needs a tablecloth yet, but it gives me more storage space). I'm debating whether to spray paint my trashcan to more closely match the color scheme. I bought a cheap baker's rack at Wal-Mart and used up a can of the cool copper spray paint on it. (It didn't look nearly as happy in my garage after I finished painting it.)

I also painted my front railing (which was the reason I bought the copper spray paint in the first place). Vast improvement.

What a novelty.

I spent most of Saturday working on my house (after several months of slacking). I started with the breakfast nook, which has had the same awful wallpaper since I moved in (of course, if flower meadows are your thing, more power to you). I stripped the wallpaper and then spent half an hour trying to get the shelf thingy in the second picture (the one holding all my coffee cups) off the wall. Seriously, I was thinking four screws and it's off, but that would just be too easy. Instead it came apart in pieces (I'm guessing the previous owner built it himself; he did a lot of that). Not two or three, but *seven* pieces. And each piece was individually attached to the wall. It started out with a handful of small screws for the top pieces, then graduated to extra-long nails for the middle pieces and eventually ended up with bloody 3-inch lag bolts for the bottom part. In completely random places. He bolted through the boards and into the wall, then painted over them, so I ended up shaking it until I located the places where it moved the least and then dug through the paint for the screws (where's the screw? Oh, there it is). I'd originally planned to put it back, but after the fourth piece came off I decided it was time to retire it. I'll buy a corner rack to replace it. (Amusingly, two playing cards fell out from behind it when I removed the last screw. I wonder how long they've been back there.)

Walls cleared, time for the first coat of paint. Then the second. I used the same faux finish I used in my living room (and later in the entryway) except I switched the colors. (Ooooo, I even have a couple of daylight shots. 'Cause, you know, I can manipulate time. It's like a lightswitch.) Here I've flipped the "daylight" switch back off and started painting the mid-wall divider and the window frames (in the same color as my kitchen cabinets in order to color-coordinate). Unfortunately, I ran out of paint, so I still need to paint the window frames. (I haven't stripped the tape yet; the actual border isn't that messy.) I also need to buy some new curtains. Linens'N'Things is going to love me.

While waiting for the first coat of paint to dry in the breakfast nook, I started on the entryway, which was completely untouched. I also sanded down the entry closet (which had large patches of peeling paint, likely because it has a window and thus gets direct sunlight). First coat on. First (and hopefully only) coat in the closet. Second faux-finish coat in the entryway (I also painted the inside of the arch between the two rooms with the same color as the trim in the living room). I also bought a new copper switchplate for the entryway. Oh, wait, no I didn't. That's the original stainless steel one that now looks like copper because Lisa told me about this cool-as-hell "hammered" spray paint that Scott used on their railing. Guess what's going on my front railing? And anything else I can remotely justify making look like copper. ;)

I wonder what a hammered copper Saturn would look like . . .

The weather was finally nice enough that I had enough enthusiasm to venture into the attic and use up the insulation I'd scurried away in small amounts like a squirrel over the last month. Of course, I ran out of insulation and I'm still not done. :P I did, however, put down the first and second layers for a good chunk of it, and the first layer for a bit more. I still have an entire side that needs the second layer and parts that need the first and second layer. This little cavern is the area over my breakfast nook and it had four inches of insulation, so I put down R-25 in it instead of R-19 to bring it up to a foot (of course, a roll of R-25 doesn't cover nearly as much as R-19, so I need another roll of that, too). And, of course, the entire center area of the attic still isn't going to have any, but at this point I'm still not sure what to do about it.

I also finished unpacking the boxes in the basement and set up my extra bookshelves.