Home, home again

It was ten years ago this very week that I took possession of the palatial estate at Surlywood, by a considerable margin my longest stay at any single address ever, and this observation from the first few days seemed like something worth fetching from the archives:

I’m just now learning the sounds of the new house. Of course, “new” is a relative term: the house is actually fifty-five years old. You might expect a bit of creak here and there, and indeed the wooden floors do have a recognizable jounce/rebound pattern, each room slightly different but none of them at all silent. And while the gas furnace is not particularly noisy, there is a pattern that repeats whenever the thermostat commands: a low-pitched grunt, as though the giant had been awakened from his slumber (“Fee, fi, fo, farm/Suppose this twerp would like some warm”), then a rumble as the gas valve opens, finally a snap of metallic fingers and the rush of warm air.

Of course, the house is now sixty-five years old, and in arguably better shape than its slightly younger owner; the furnace noise seems louder today, but only because over those ten years I have embraced a lower level of background noise.







3 comments

  1. Tatyana »

    27 November 2013 · 10:03 am

    Congrats, Chaz! I never lived in my own home longer than for 8 yrs.
    And the theme of squeaks, creaks and sighs is currently in focus – but for much more unpleasant reasons, than winter-pastoral yours.
    Maybe I should, after all, write a post about it.

  2. Kirk »

    27 November 2013 · 1:32 pm

    I figure as long as my mouth still makes louder noises than my joints, I’m doing OK!

  3. Roger Green »

    27 November 2013 · 3:07 pm

    I KNOW those noises!

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