Some Like It Hot: Meet the New Water Heater!

It is a strange but true story that when my husband's father died a few years ago, he took several of our critical appliances along with him. On the same day that he passed, we lost our refrigerator, the vacuum, and the telephone. Apparently it is some kind of family "thing"; when Aunt Sue (his dad's oldest sister) passed away on Monday of last week, our hot water heater went as well.

True, the water heater had been quite old (18 years, which is more than respectable for such an appliance). But the timing was odd, to say the least. It was like the death of a star. One day the water was suddenly way too hot. The next day, there was no heat at all. It had burned too brightly, and then burnt out.

We discovered the water heater's demise on Monday night a week ago, upon our return home after a lovely day in the Quehanna Wild Area. I was getting ready to wash dishes in the evening, and I turned on the kitchen faucet. No hot water!

My husband checked the water heater, messed with the temperature controls. Nothing. It was fully croaked. Since then, I've been heating water up in the microwave for washing dishes.

In related news, we had an odd spell of sultry weather from the middle to end of last week. It's been what I'd call a rather cool spring, overall. Suddenly, we had July-like temperatures, in the mid-80s F. And when we attended Aunt Sue's funeral near the Chesapeake Bay, it was probably 95 degrees when we stood in the sunny graveyard around noon for her interment. Too darn hot.

As you might have guessed, no hot water heater also means we have had no hot water for showers. Oh, sure, the water still works. It runs. And it's quite chilly when it comes out of the tap. For the first few days, I actually took cold showers that left me rather hyped-up and breathless.

You can ask the people who attended my meetings; they will tell you how insufferable and brash I was. I was bouncy. I was in-your-face. I was jaunty. I was undaunted. I felt like Rocky Balboa in Rocky IV: eye of the tiger, baby, eye of the tiger! Ready to lick my weight in wildcats . . .

But eventually, I started to resent it some. I felt more like Bill Murray in that Groundhog Day cold-water shower scene clip: Oh no, of course there wouldn't be any hot water TODAY!

Soon we learned that room-temperature water (especially at those warmer temperatures we'd been having) was MUCH warmer than water straight out of the tap. So by the latter part of the week, we set up a bathing station in the bathtub that consisted of a large container of room-temperature water and a cup.

The process is this: you get naked, get in the tub, fill the cup with water, apply water to the affected areas, add some soap, and scrub. Rinse, lather, repeat. It's quite simple, really. Let me mention that it is a very mindful experience, bathing in such a way. And you don't waste water! (Just think of the water we saved during this time.)

At the same time that we were coping, we were also problem solving. And by "we," I mean, my husband. :-) On Tuesday, he phoned a friend, who came over and offered advice about how to tear the water heater apart. The water had to be flushed out first. My husband mocked me when I bought a 100-foot garden hose a few years back, but it came in quite handy for that task.

When I arrived home on Tuesday afternoon, my husband had the water heater apart, the water drained out, the water source to the heater turned off, and the heating elements (which were obviously shot) removed. There was an eight-inch-tall pile of stuff on the bottom that looked like salt crystals, that I am told is a thing called "scale," the build-up of calcium and other minerals from hard water.

It seemed quite clear that it was time for a replacement. My husband's buddy had recommended an old friend who is a plumber, who lives close to us. We've been wanting a plumber of our own, and this seemed the ideal time to get one.

The bad timing part was that this guy was out of town for a family event, and wouldn't be back home until Wednesday night. So my husband called several times Wednesday evening and Thursday, and left messages, which were not returned. Despair!

We looked longingly at water heaters on the Internet; checked the reliability ratings of those sold at Lowe's vs. Home Depot; wondered whether we should simply arrange to have one of them take care of it. My husband even called the one store and played an unsuccessful round of phone-tag with a sales person; and then another round of (again unsuccessful) phone-tag with a technician.

But my husband and I both felt pretty strongly that we'd like to engage a local plumber and establish a relationship. There are other plumbing sorts of things in the house with which we would occasionally like assistance.

I tried to think on the bright side. We still had running (cold) water. That time the kitchen sink was out of commission for a while was actually in some ways worse. I was grateful that the water heater went in summer instead of winter; and that it happened when my husband was home to handle the lion's share of dealing with it. I was glad it didn't spew water all over the floor when it went.

I was glad that my backpacking/camping life has prepared me to enjoy even the simplest amenities, like a container of room-temperature water and a cup. (We've lived, when camping out, with far less.) I was also grateful for the little things, like Pantene 2-in-1 shampoo AND conditioner, just one step!

And I was grateful for our existing water heater, which had given us great service for all of the years that I've owned the house up until this point. Most water heater warranties are for 6 years; I mean, who gets 18 years out of a water heater? WHO!???

I made one big mistake on Thursday: I did a load of laundry. Somehow the additional pressure created a backwash, even though the water was turned off at the water heater. Water ran down into the water heater and (with the heating element out and the lower opening unobstructed) leaked all over the garage floor.

Who knew it would do such a thing? Who could even guess? But guess who got a mop and cleaned it up. Yep, this girl, the one who caused the great big mess. No more laundry till it's fixed!

Thursday evening, my husband and I both had to get cleaned up to go to Aunt Sue's funeral. For we would be leaving the house at 5:30 a.m. the next day, and there would be no time in the morning for fooling around.

My husband had the bright idea of heating up water in the microwave to add to our room-temperature water in the container in the tub. And so as I kneeled in the tub, washing my hair, he brought me warm water, which was very nice. It felt charming and old-fashioned, like we were Ma and Pa Ingalls on the prairie, only . . . with electricity, a microwave, and running water.

Having two funerals coming up gave us some much-needed perspective. You do not whine about little things when someone you love has died. You try to remember that YOU - the one who is still alive, even if you are suffering a little, or maybe even a lot - are the lucky one.

Friday morning, we left town to attend our first funeral of the weekend. It was a full day of driving down and back to the Chesapeake Bay. Our second funeral was scheduled for Saturday afternoon in State College. This one was for an old friend of mine from work.

When we got up Saturday morning, I suggested that when we went into town in the afternoon, before the funeral, we should stop by Home Depot, order a water heater, and schedule installation. Just a few minutes before noon, my husband made one last desperate call to the friend-of-a-friend plumber.

Miracle of miracles, the guy picked up! "Do you want me to do it today?" he asked. And my heart skipped a beat! But it turns out that the plumbing supply place he works with closed at noon, so he couldn't get us a water heater that day; and I had a funeral to attend.

So we scheduled delivery and installation for Monday afternoon, when my husband would be home to meet him there. Our new professional plumber/electrician would pick up and deliver the new water heater, install it, and haul away the old one. How convenient. . . .

So I am happy to report that when I arrived home on this day, the brand new water heater had been installed (at a total cost of less than $500, every penny of which is money well spent), the ruined one was gone, and we were back in business. HOT WATER! RIGHT OUT OF THE FAUCET! Oh, miracle of miracles!

The new water heater is industrial grade, has an energy factor of .95, which is awesome, and is built to handle a small apartment complex. It is short, and in fact, weighs almost exactly the same as me. (I joked with my husband - how will you ever tell us apart?)

You may see my new water heater in the photo above. I am sorry the room where it lives is not prettier, but this is the habitat where water heaters apparently live in the wild: in a grungy, little room just off the garage. That metal tube/hose thingy behind it is the vent tube for the dryer, which is in the next room.

Of course, my husband and I were both nearly giddy from the excitement, as one is, when a critical, worrisome house issue has been resolved. I washed dishes Monday night without having to heat water in the microwave in advance. (It may be the first time ever that I did that task with glee, dancing all the while.)

And the next morning (Tuesday), I had my first actual hot shower in over a week. It was awesome. It was mind-boggling. I have to admit I lollygagged a little. I shaved my legs. I used body wash. Did I mention it was awesome?

The new water heater also came with a brand new box, which Dexter adored. Or maybe I should say: we bought a brand new box for the cat, and they threw in a bonus water heater. So we played with the empty box quite a bit. The cat hung out in it. I took silly pictures.

Just before bedtime, we sat the box up on its end, tall, and it looked sorta like a phone booth, or one of those dancing cages you see in the movies. There is a rumor going around that a semi-naked girlie show took place late at night in that box, but I would advise you NOT to believe everything you read on the Internet. Honestly . . . the stories one hears nowadays.

And the following morning, the cat had a barfing episode. Where did he go? Straight into the new box, where he barfed neatly into a corner, and I wiped it up quite easily. For a cat, this might be like barfing in a new car; who knows. But it was actually very convenient. I imagine every cat lover I know would want one: a barfing box.

As I've said to my husband, we love to live a happy tale, but a story of bad luck and/or suffering actually makes a more interesting anecdote, in the long run. So here is the story of the water heater, told in all its detail, in all its gritty, real-life glory. With a house, it's always something.

It took almost exactly ONE WEEK from start to finish. (Heck, it almost took longer than that to tell it!) It was an object lesson in the things we take for granted; I promise to be grateful for every drop of hot water, from here on out.

And now, I'm back in the business of hot showers again, and I'm delighted, unfettered, a girl gone wild. So let's put a little heat under it, shall we?  The song to accompany this long, long tale is from a classic, favorite film, and I'll bet you guessed it when you saw the title of this blip. Here is Marilyn Monroe, with Running Wild, from Some Like It Hot.