How dare I trust that wacky gauge on the propane tank outside. That rascal has betrayed me before.
On Saturday I checked and had 30% left in the tank. Sunday morning I woke up to no heat. When the stove wouldn’t light either and I suspected foul play did I dash outside in my pajamas and untied boots and wade through a foot of snow in subzero temps to check the tank? Of course I did. It said 0.
So, I ran to town (clothed) and bought a couple of space heaters from the hardware store. I already had a couple, but the forecast was double-digits-below and I wanted to be sure the water pipes against the outside wall didn’t even need to ask for sweaters. My plan was to call the propane company first thing Monday.
Which I did. And want to apologize to Julie (I think she said Julie?) in Bismarck who had the misfortune to be the designated Monday Morning Phone Jockey for a heating company on the Northern Plains of the United States in the middle of January. Customer Service: the most abused employees on the planet. Sorry I was crabby when you said it’ll be $645.99 and the delivery will be sometime in the next ten days. I asked if I could call someone else. Answer: not legal for anyone to fill another company’s tank. Within 10 minutes of ending the call, I had myself convinced that the propane truck would be here today. Any minute in fact.
That was Monday. Today is Wednesday. Meanwhile, I discovered that there’s an online Order Page where I can see when/if the truck is out for delivery. This is helpful in keeping me from pacing and listening for the telltale beep as the truck backs in.
I had an indoor wall thermometer at one time, but I think it was a victim of the Mighty Purge last fall and I didn’t think to grab one when I bought the heaters. So I borrowed the outdoor one and hung it from a magnet on the fridge. It’s a balmy 70 degrees in here. And outside it’s a balmy 30-something. Beats the hell out of 20 below.