Sally Breslin: My Life: MY FURNACE IS LIKE A CAT THAT'S USED SEVEN OF ITS NINE LIVES

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Well, I spent this past weekend being cold. That’s because my furnace decided to cough a few times and die. And stubborn (and financially challenged) person that I am, I refused to pay the inflated weekend prices for a repairman.

The only problem with waiting to call for repairs was I had no alternate source of heat – no fireplace, no woodstove, no space heater, not even a stove oven (that also died about two years ago) to help keep me warm. I did, however, have two wrap-around electric heating-pads, so I spent the weekend wrapped in those while the temperature in the house remained at a balmy 58-59F degrees.

Actually, I do have a fireplace – sort of. It’s a simulated one that burns cans of gel fuel, similar to Sterno. But I was out of the gel, which I used up the last time my furnace coughed and died, back in late October.

I’ve come to the conclusion that my furnace is like a cat because it has nine lives…and already has used up about seven of them.

Anyway, over the weekend, I did what every seasoned homeowner who doesn’t want to needlessly spend money does – I tried to fix the problem myself. This involved Googling the “how to get your furnace running again” lists and religiously following each step. I flipped the furnace’s switch off and on. I flipped the thermostat’s switch off and on. And while the furnace was shut off, I even dared to unscrew and remove the panel on the front of it...and then stood and stared blankly at the furnace’s innards. As a last resort, I also performed an exorcism dance in an attempt to remove the evil spirits from the metal monster.

One item on the list, however: “Carefully remove the furnace’s igniter and clean it," I decided to skip right over, not only for my own safety, but also for my entire neighborhood's.

The end result of all my efforts was I permanently shut off the furnace and cranked up my heating pads from “medium” to “high.”

When I called the repair service on Monday morning, no one really seemed to care too much that I was cold…and old (I mentioned "old" to them in an attempt to gain some sympathy). I was told they couldn't possibly squeeze me in, even though the forecast for Monday night included wind-chills of about 30 degrees.

They did check to see when my last propane delivery was, thinking I probably had an empty tank. It had been filled just last week.

I casually said, “Speaking of propane, I thought I could smell gas in my basement, which is why I gave up trying to start the furnace myself. I wasn't in the mood to go airborne.”

The woman on the phone gasped. “You smelled propane in your basement?”

“Yeah, but it was really faint, and that was only on Saturday.”

“It could be a dangerous leak! Someone will be right over! In the meantime, don’t light anything, don’t smoke, don’t turn on any electrical switches or appliances, and evacuate everyone in the house and stand outside!”

As she spoke to me, I glanced over at the teakettle heating up on the stove (I'd been drinking a lot of tea to keep my internal organs thawed) and then heard my clothes dryer crank onto its next cycle. I felt pretty certain that if a dangerous gas leak did exist somewhere, the house and I probably would have been orbiting Jupiter by then.

But I wasn’t about to argue with her…especially if it meant a repairman would be right over.

He arrived in 20 minutes.

The first thing he did was ask me what the propane smelled like.

I had no clue what he meant. I mean, propane smells like propane.

"Like a fart?" I answered.

He rolled his eyes. "No - did it smell fresh or kind of burnt?"

I shrugged and repeated, "It smelled like an old fart."

He did a thorough check of the gas lines and regulators and deemed the house safe before he headed down to the basement to check the furnace.

Well, as my luck usually goes with everything from cars to appliances, the minute the repairman turned on the furnace, it kicked on and purred like a kitten. He repeated the process. Again, the furnace betrayed me and fired right up. I actually could see it sticking out its tongue and cackling at me.

The repairman, however, didn’t even crack a smile. In fact, his expression clearly told me he was thinking, “You made me rush all the way over here for nothing, you delusional old bat!”

Instead, he said, “Well, I guess everything is okay now.”

I, however, still had the strong feeling everything wasn’t okay. I knew that the minute he drove off to his next emergency job, my furnace would die again and this time, because my house had been checked for leaks, he would know the place was safe and would delay his return…until about June.

But I happened to notice something at that point. He had tested the furnace only after he’d removed the front panel.

“When you screw the panel back on, can you try the furnace again?” I asked him.

Again, he gave me the “crazy old bat” look. But he did as I asked.

And the furnace didn’t ignite.

I honestly felt like kissing it.

I also noticed a green light blinking out a pattern like Morse code.

“I have to count the blinks,” he said. “It will tell me what’s wrong.”

The final diagnosis was the outside air-intake vent was blocked. When he’d removed the front panel on the furnace, he explained, air from in the basement had been enough to allow the furnace to ignite, but with the panel back on, there wasn’t any more basement air.

I was familiar with the good old air-intake problem…very familiar. The furnace’s outside vent, which is really low to the ground and has no protection over it (any “protection,” I have been told numerous times, would affect the air flow), attracts all sorts of insects and small animals. As a result, it has been the home of wasps and their nests, mice and their nests, and spiders and their sticky webs – all of which have obstructed the air flow. This time, however, it turned out to be a bunch of dead leaves that the vent had decided to suck up.

The repairman removed all of the leaves and said he was glad the blockage hadn't been caused by anything alive, like a family of pit vipers.

He did tell me that if it ever happens again, I don’t have to risk freezing. There actually is a rubber plug on the side of the furnace I can pop out that will allow the basement's air to be sucked into the furnace and allow it to keep running…until whatever vermin might be clogging up the outside vent can be extricated.

The furnace seems to be running just fine now, knock on wood.

But it’s only a matter of time before it dies again and uses up another one of its nine lives. I’m pretty sure I saw a tiny “vacancy” sign hanging above the outside vent.

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Sally Breslin is an award-winning syndicated humor columnist who has written regularly for newspapers and magazines all of her adult life. She is the author of several novels in a variety of genres, from humor and romance to science fiction. Contact her at: sillysally@att.net