Friday afternoon: My dog, Snickers, started pestering me while I was sitting at my desk. I had been at it for a while so I shut down my computer and headed into the living room for some crocheting and TV. (I have decided to make an afghan. Maybe not the best idea but I am doing it anyway.) He jumped into my lap and seemed content.
After a while, I determined that I was unusually cold. I got up and checked the thermostat. It read 68 degrees. (I keep it at 72.) I headed down the stairs into my creepy basement to check my furnace. Interestingly, the flame was not on. So I flipped off the switch for the electricity to the furnace, then flipped it on again. The pilot turned on, then off, then on again, then the furnace kicked on. I headed upstairs and held my hand over a heater vent to check. Yep. Hot air was blowing. I felt very clever and quite pleased with myself for fixing the problem. "Who needs a man to fix things?" I thought.
The furnace worked fine until Sunday... I think.
Sunday evening: The dog started pestering me again. Again, he was cold. This time when I checked the thermostat, it read 66. Again, I headed down into the creepy basement. Again, I turned off the electricity then turned it back on. This time, though, the furnace did not start. The pilot went on but the furnace did not.
That's when I noticed the blinking light and remembered from last winter's furnace adventure that the number of blinks is an error code. I counted the blinks: 7. I then looked for the code key. I could not find it in my unit's paperwork and was about to head for my computer to look it up on the internet when I saw the codes listed on the inside of the furnace door. I thought, "Well, duh. That makes sense."
Code 7 was some gibberish that meant nothing to me. I wound up going online to figure out what to do. Everyone online said to clean the flame sensor, which involved unscrewing a screw and rubbing a metal post clean with Emory paper. I thought, "I can do that. I am not going to pay a repairman $100 to come out to my house to do something I can do for myself." I shut off the electricity and gas to the furnace, then headed upstairs to stick it out till morning with the determination to handle the situation on my own.
Was I ever stupid.
Monday morning, I woke up early (5:30-ish) and put Snickers' sweater on him. Then I showered and dressed. I was ready to begin my day before 6:30 and headed into the basement with my digital camera. (Yes, I am the lady who brings photos to the Ace Hardware guys. It helps them determine what I need.) I took a photo, then headed to my local Ace Hardware store to get some Emory paper and to ask the guys where in the photo they thought the flam sensor might be. (The diagram in the manual did not match the real-life layout of the furnace and I could not find a same picture online.)
Do you see that little white knobby thing in the center of the aluminum box and towards the back? That is what we decided likely hooked up to the flame sensor. (We were wrong. It is the ignitor and it reaches 1300 degrees when hot. Thankfully, the furnace had been off all night so was cool.)
I came back home and walked down the steps to the slightly-less-creepy-during-the-day basement. In front of the furnace, I tried to use my screwdriver to loosen the hex screw/bolt thingy. It was too long to fit into the tiny space. Even my stumpy screwdriver was too long because there is something in the way. I headed out to Menards for an appropriate tool, then I returned.
I could not figure out how to change the socket on my new wrench. Not wanting to go to the store again to get a new tool, I walked over to my neighbor's house for advice. He is a retired millwright so I figured he would be able to show me how to work my new tool. I was wrong. He pulled out his own socket wrench and handed it to me. Problem fixed.
Those who have read Memory of Miracles (my new eBook release) know that I used to play violin but lost my fine motor skills during medical problems. This is never so apparent as when I am trying to screw or unscrew something in a tight space. It took about 3/4 of an hour of extreme patience for me to unscrew the screw that I was trying to remove... and then it fell into somewhere that I could not find it.
With a sigh, I used the steel wool I had purchased at Ace (my store does not carry Emory paper) to clean the metal stick thingy that I thought was the flame sensor, then I grabbed the socket wrench and headed out the door with it.
It was just before 11 am and I thought I was almost finished with my furnace repair. So I kept my previously set chiropractic appointment. Then I went to lunch at my usual Monday lunch spot. I expected to be able to diffuse some steam by talking to my friend, Mary, and some of the servers whom I know there. I did not get to talk to them, though, because some lonely, old man decided that I was pretty and looked friendly and he decided to invite himself to sit at my table and talk until my food arrived and began to get cold.
Did I talk back? Only when asked a direct question and with as brief of statements as possible. Did he take the hint? No. Thankfully, I wear a ring on my ring finger because I am sure he would have asked for my number if I did not. He did ask how long I was married (22 years) and if my husband ever told me what a beautiful smile I have. He also said I glow from within. Nice to hear from people I am not wishing would just go away and leave me alone.
After the old man (my parents' age) left, I learned that he had told my waitress that he would marry her on the spot except that she had a boyfriend (which she does not). My friend, Mary, told me that she was trying to figure out how to get me out of the encounter but couldn't think of a polite way.
I got up and scrubbed the hand he had "shaken" (with both of his hands) before I used it to eat my burger or fries. This was NOT turning out to be a good day. Then I went back to Ace for a screw to replace the one I had lost and returned home. At home, I fiddled and fiddled until I dropped the new screw in a place where it could not be found. I went back to Ace. I bought FIVE same screws and a telescoping magnet, and came home.
After losing yet another screw in a place where it could not be found and figuring out that my new magnet would do me no good in an entirely metal space, I decided to try screwing in one of the screws without first attaching it to the piece. Lo and behold, the screw did not fit! I returned to Ace for a new screw of different kind. I looked at my clock. It was roughly 3:30 pm. I thought, "If this doesn't work, I'm calling the repairman."
I wound up calling the repairman. He got there about an hour later and reattached my igniter in about 30 seconds. Then he cleaned the fuel sensor. That took about three minutes. Then he spent about an hour trouble-shooting why my furnace really would not light. My new circuit board will be here on Wednesday. Meanwhile, I have water leaking onto my basement floor from the pump the HVAC guy unattached from the furnace to get it to warm my house until the circuit board can be installed. Snickers is no longer pestering me to keep him warm.
After a while, I determined that I was unusually cold. I got up and checked the thermostat. It read 68 degrees. (I keep it at 72.) I headed down the stairs into my creepy basement to check my furnace. Interestingly, the flame was not on. So I flipped off the switch for the electricity to the furnace, then flipped it on again. The pilot turned on, then off, then on again, then the furnace kicked on. I headed upstairs and held my hand over a heater vent to check. Yep. Hot air was blowing. I felt very clever and quite pleased with myself for fixing the problem. "Who needs a man to fix things?" I thought.
The furnace worked fine until Sunday... I think.
Sunday evening: The dog started pestering me again. Again, he was cold. This time when I checked the thermostat, it read 66. Again, I headed down into the creepy basement. Again, I turned off the electricity then turned it back on. This time, though, the furnace did not start. The pilot went on but the furnace did not.
That's when I noticed the blinking light and remembered from last winter's furnace adventure that the number of blinks is an error code. I counted the blinks: 7. I then looked for the code key. I could not find it in my unit's paperwork and was about to head for my computer to look it up on the internet when I saw the codes listed on the inside of the furnace door. I thought, "Well, duh. That makes sense."
Code 7 was some gibberish that meant nothing to me. I wound up going online to figure out what to do. Everyone online said to clean the flame sensor, which involved unscrewing a screw and rubbing a metal post clean with Emory paper. I thought, "I can do that. I am not going to pay a repairman $100 to come out to my house to do something I can do for myself." I shut off the electricity and gas to the furnace, then headed upstairs to stick it out till morning with the determination to handle the situation on my own.
Was I ever stupid.
Monday morning, I woke up early (5:30-ish) and put Snickers' sweater on him. Then I showered and dressed. I was ready to begin my day before 6:30 and headed into the basement with my digital camera. (Yes, I am the lady who brings photos to the Ace Hardware guys. It helps them determine what I need.) I took a photo, then headed to my local Ace Hardware store to get some Emory paper and to ask the guys where in the photo they thought the flam sensor might be. (The diagram in the manual did not match the real-life layout of the furnace and I could not find a same picture online.)Do you see that little white knobby thing in the center of the aluminum box and towards the back? That is what we decided likely hooked up to the flame sensor. (We were wrong. It is the ignitor and it reaches 1300 degrees when hot. Thankfully, the furnace had been off all night so was cool.)
I came back home and walked down the steps to the slightly-less-creepy-during-the-day basement. In front of the furnace, I tried to use my screwdriver to loosen the hex screw/bolt thingy. It was too long to fit into the tiny space. Even my stumpy screwdriver was too long because there is something in the way. I headed out to Menards for an appropriate tool, then I returned.
I could not figure out how to change the socket on my new wrench. Not wanting to go to the store again to get a new tool, I walked over to my neighbor's house for advice. He is a retired millwright so I figured he would be able to show me how to work my new tool. I was wrong. He pulled out his own socket wrench and handed it to me. Problem fixed.
Those who have read Memory of Miracles (my new eBook release) know that I used to play violin but lost my fine motor skills during medical problems. This is never so apparent as when I am trying to screw or unscrew something in a tight space. It took about 3/4 of an hour of extreme patience for me to unscrew the screw that I was trying to remove... and then it fell into somewhere that I could not find it.
With a sigh, I used the steel wool I had purchased at Ace (my store does not carry Emory paper) to clean the metal stick thingy that I thought was the flame sensor, then I grabbed the socket wrench and headed out the door with it.
It was just before 11 am and I thought I was almost finished with my furnace repair. So I kept my previously set chiropractic appointment. Then I went to lunch at my usual Monday lunch spot. I expected to be able to diffuse some steam by talking to my friend, Mary, and some of the servers whom I know there. I did not get to talk to them, though, because some lonely, old man decided that I was pretty and looked friendly and he decided to invite himself to sit at my table and talk until my food arrived and began to get cold.
Did I talk back? Only when asked a direct question and with as brief of statements as possible. Did he take the hint? No. Thankfully, I wear a ring on my ring finger because I am sure he would have asked for my number if I did not. He did ask how long I was married (22 years) and if my husband ever told me what a beautiful smile I have. He also said I glow from within. Nice to hear from people I am not wishing would just go away and leave me alone.
After the old man (my parents' age) left, I learned that he had told my waitress that he would marry her on the spot except that she had a boyfriend (which she does not). My friend, Mary, told me that she was trying to figure out how to get me out of the encounter but couldn't think of a polite way.
I got up and scrubbed the hand he had "shaken" (with both of his hands) before I used it to eat my burger or fries. This was NOT turning out to be a good day. Then I went back to Ace for a screw to replace the one I had lost and returned home. At home, I fiddled and fiddled until I dropped the new screw in a place where it could not be found. I went back to Ace. I bought FIVE same screws and a telescoping magnet, and came home.
After losing yet another screw in a place where it could not be found and figuring out that my new magnet would do me no good in an entirely metal space, I decided to try screwing in one of the screws without first attaching it to the piece. Lo and behold, the screw did not fit! I returned to Ace for a new screw of different kind. I looked at my clock. It was roughly 3:30 pm. I thought, "If this doesn't work, I'm calling the repairman."
I wound up calling the repairman. He got there about an hour later and reattached my igniter in about 30 seconds. Then he cleaned the fuel sensor. That took about three minutes. Then he spent about an hour trouble-shooting why my furnace really would not light. My new circuit board will be here on Wednesday. Meanwhile, I have water leaking onto my basement floor from the pump the HVAC guy unattached from the furnace to get it to warm my house until the circuit board can be installed. Snickers is no longer pestering me to keep him warm.
Thanks for all of this writing, I've been looking for opinions and anecdotes about boiler problems for a while now. My own boiler has been on the blink - I've conducted a little research into possible ways to fix the problem, but I've come to the conclusion that I'm going to have to call some professionals for real advice.
ReplyDeleteDennis Cannon @ Laird And Son
Oh, thank you for commenting! I am so pleased this experience has been helpful to you.
DeleteI agree that some things are just made so much more possible by asking professional advice, and furnaces are complicated enough to be one of them. Good luck finding the answers for yours!