Workers in the attic

A convergence of recent factors pushed me into installing more workmen in my attic this week:

• The tax dudes tell me I can take a deduction of $1500 if I upgrade my air conditioning system before the end of the year.
• The son who deployed to Afghanistan last week has a lot of money in the bank and owes me enough of it to cover the cost of the new system.
• The system I had was more than 30 years old. Well, the air conditioner part was; the heater was replaced something like 10 years ago, but in the world of air conditioning systems, that means they're both pretty old.

This all sort of came to a head over the summer when we had Shrek living upstairs and I noticed a continual pouring of condensation off the upstairs system during the hottest month of the year, and when my energy bill came in after that month, I was almost apoplectic. I'm generally pretty green, and I've always run the air conditioning warmer and the heating cooler than most folks to save money and save energy. I don't think the upstairs was unusually cool during the summer; I think Shrek's video equipment was just broiling the system.

At some point, something in that system gave up and required a service call. I got the guy out here, and he replaced the part and got us going again for less than the energy bill had been. By then, the weather had taken a turn toward unseasonably cool, and I shut down the systems on both floors. But I took to heart the workman's observation that the other unit was really, really old, and this might be a good time to consider replacing it. And just think of all the money I would save by going from the old, energy-hog unit to a bright, new, efficient one!

Okay, I'm not good at math, but I know this much: if the electricity part usually only about half of my monthly bill from the city (which includes things like water and garbage pickup) and my monthly bill is usually not huge, then it will take the rest of my life for me to "save" enough to pay for a new system. Furthermore, as the guy explained to me, the system that gets the most stress is the upstairs one: since heat rises anyway, and that one is closer to the roof, it has to combat both the effects of sun on the roof and heat from downstairs. Sort of explains why that air conditioning unit only lasted about half as long as the one downstairs and the heater up there almost never trips on.

The only financial justification for this mess is to get the tax break, take advantage of the amount of money the soldier owes me, and deduct the remainder from the cost of the new unit I'd probably be buying in a few years anyway if I don't replace it now. So I bit the bullet and had it done.

Temporarily forgetting Margaret Joan's rule. My sister says a do-it-yourself job takes twice the amount of time you estimate, promoted to the next time unit: a 10-minute job will take 20 hours.

The workers showed up about 9 o'clock Thursday morning, ready to dismantle and remove my old system and plug in the new.

Of course it couldn't be that easy.

For one thing, nothing manufactured in 2010 bears much resemblance to anything manufactured in 1979, so "plugging in" was a somewhat bigger challenge. Even the cement pad beside the garage had to be replaced for the bigger new unit. And 30 years of people crawling around in the attic to store outgrown stuff hasn't done the duct work any favors, either. I remember thinking briefly as I chased one of the dogs out of the attic while the workers went to lunch that at least the weather was cool enough for attic work to be more comfortable.

In the daytime, at least. While the temperatures were just cool.

As the night set in and the units were still not all connected, I realized that I would have to come up with some alternative for keeping warm. I've had a heating pad on the foot of my bed lately to ward off Popsicle feet, and Soldier Son had sent me a wonderful, heavy, tiger-print blanket at the end of his duty in Iraq a few years ago. I bundled up in flannel pajamas, turned on the heating pad, and snuggled under my tiger for the night.

Getting up to a cold house Friday morning was harder. I layered on sweatpants and a hoodie, dragged my heating pad into my lounge chair, and curled up under my laptop to stay warm. By noon, the heater still wasn't ready yet, but the thermometer said it was warmer outside than in. I put out the dogs and headed to the office.

When I got home, the workmen had gone. Number One Son said they had left a couple of items to finish on Monday, but the system had tested out just fine and we could use it immediately.

The temperature was a balmy 72 degrees.