"Sweetie, don't you think it's getting colder in the house?"

It happened to be New Year's eve on cold Minnesota afternoon with a temperature outside of about minus 30 degrees.  The question was being addressed to me by my wife.  There could be no doubt.  It definitely felt as if the temperature was dropping in the house.

"I'll have to go down to the basement and check the furnace," I responded and headed through the kitchen and down the basement steps. I opened the door to the furnace and took off the front cover.  The heat exchanger was caked with a thick coat of greasy soot and the flames of the burner were a smokey yellow color.  Somehow - perhaps the vibration of the fan motor - the dampers to the burners had turned to cut down the air flow so that the resulting gas flame was full of carbon and was blowing soot on the heat exchanger.

Brilliant deduction!  But this was hardly going to solve the immediate problem.

I called one of our members who was in the furnace business.  He was understandably sympathetic but, as he explained, his regular service people were off for the holiday and he'd have to see who he'd be able to send out.

About an hour later an elderly Swedish repairman rang the doorbell.  His expression looked as if he had been temporarily forced out of retirement and he spoke somewhat broken English with a heavy accent.  We went down to inspect the situation. 

He murmured something about having to remove the soot.  Did I have a vacuum cleaner or something similar since he didn't have those kind of tools on him.  Fortunately I had an older vacuum cleaner that we had replaced with a more powerful model.  I had kept it for cleaning the interior of the car and it appeared to be the instrument of choice in this situation.  I went and checked it out and soon we were happily vacuuming off the residue, when we struck an unexpected snag.  There was more soot than the vacuum bag could hold.  Of course I didn't have any spare bags around and it was too late to try going to a store to purchase new ones.

The only alternative: check with a neighbor and see if they might give us a bag to use.  After fruitlessly trying several homes (people were either out of town or out for the evening) we finally found a neighbor at home who willingly offered a couple of her disposable bags.  There was just one teeny hitch, however: The bag wasn't exactly the right replacement for our model of vacuum.

But when one is desperate what is one to do? - especially when the temperature is dropping!  We were only too happy to graciously accept the proffered gift.  Back we trotted to the challenge that awaited us. (The repair man was starting to curse in Swedish!)

I figured out some way to attach the bag to the vacuum (I think it did involve Scotch tape!) and we began once again to vacuum off the soot.  The results appeared encouraging when, without any warning, the bag detached from its moorings.  The repairman let out a word I didn't recognize and I could only watch with dismay as a cloud of soot started to ascend the steps which led to the kitchen. The cloud passed in between the slots of the louvered door which were at the top.  Sure enough, the entire kitchen from countertop to appliances was now laced with a thin film of greasy soot.  It wasn't all that noticeable - except when you touched it and a clear, black smear mark would instantly appear.

I picked up my courage and went to inform Susan.  I can't say she was overjoyed with the news.  After all, she had been sitting in a cold house and what better news than to discover that you had to clean the kitchen from top to bottom New Year's eve.  She and her mother got a bucket of hot water and detergent and began to address the unanticipated task in hand.  In about an hour or so the kitchen was looking spic and span once again.

In the meantime, my repairman and I still had to get the furnace operating.  With extreme caution I attached the remaining bag and added extra scotch tape to prevent further mishaps. Yes, it didn't look as if it would detach from the connection. Again we began the arduous labor of removing the remaining soot from the heat exchanger.  Success appeared to be right at the door when again, without warning, the bag exploded and the repairman added a new word to my foreign vocabulary.  I could now replace with "horror" the look of dismay which had shown on my face during the previous incident.

I'm not sure if Suze deserved a "Purple Heart" given the news she received at that precise moment - or if I deserved one given the fact that I had to be the bearer of said news.  I suppose the good news is that she could do the work in a warming house.

Certainly,that was one New Year's eve we will never forget -  and "surprise" has a totally new connotation in my life.

                              May you be blessed with a wonderful, predictable New Year!

                                                                              שׁלום