The Rest of the Story
October 04, 2009
Dad and I spent a good three days ferrying my belongings from my parents' house out to Little Fox as September drew to a close, and I officially took possession of the cabin on October 1st. "Taking possession," to those of you who don't know, means bringing the cat out. A little background here: Scout is a bold soul and a good traveler. She doesn't like to be touched by strangers, but she is not afraid of their presence. She doesn't run and hide when we arrive in a new place. The three weeks we spent in the hotel were a breeze; the space was a little smaller than she was used to, but she had a rollicking good time harassing Morgan and being her usual catty self. She was instantly in love with Mom and Dad's new house because it was HUGE, full of hidey-holes and catwalks for her to examine, and smelled like Irish Wolfhound. For all the trouble that Scout's health has caused me, she has a delightfully flexible personality.
So I was a little dismayed when, an hour into unpacking at the new cabin, I found her bundled into a catloaf on my bed in the loft. And there she stayed. She wouldn't come down except to eat and use the litter box, and that very reluctantly. I thought at first that she was cold, because my house runs a good eight degrees cooler than my parents', and the loft is colder still because the heater is on the main floor. But if that was the case why wouldn't she come downstairs where it was warmer? And why did she perk right up the minute that (at her insistence, and against my better judgment) I let her outside to explore?
Maybe she just didn't like my cabin.
I relayed all of this to my parents over the course of two days' phonecalls. My dad drove out on Friday so that I could go to the bank, and immediately commented that my house smelled very strongly of oil. No denying the truth of that statement, for sure. But it had smelled that way since the day they installed the Toyo. Our house in Germany smelled faintly but distinctly of oil; that's just what happens when you're heating your house that way. In smaller quarters, naturally the smell would be stronger, right? I figured I was just being a wuss and would have to get used to the odor. But coupled with my report of peculiar Scout's behavior, Dad was concerned enough to take the CO monitor out of my parents' house and loan it to me.
Meanwhile Scout is still tucked into herself on my bed. I notice she's a little glassy-eyed. Maybe she's ill.
Mom appeared yesterday to take me shopping (understand that the destination of most of these trips is not as important as the fact of my driving there; must practice). She gave me a big hug and told me I stink like oil. I take a big sniff of my clothes and find that she's right. My whole house stinks like oil. We bundle Scout into her carrier, since a "playdate" had been planned with Morgan (the cats bonded over their stint of cohabitation), and head to my parents' house to drop her off. She perks up immediately. Letting her out at Mom and Dad's house, she bounds out like a crazy thing to make sure the food is in the same place it was three days ago. She and Morgan make noises like thundering elephants as they chase around the upper story.
Hm.
We run into one of Mom's coworkers at the hardware store. He and his wife have both spent time living in dry cabins (it's a kind of rite of passage, right along with one's first winter in the Interior). I tell him that my Toyo is putting off a really heavy oil smell, and is this normal? He and his wife inform me very seriously that it is not at all normal, and something must be amiss in the setup of the stove. Do I have renter's insurance?
No I don't have renter's insurance. And you want to know the sad truth, I haven't even signed a lease, or a renter's agreement, or anything. People around here operate on the gentlemen's agreement, it seems, and for something as important as renting a house it goes sorely against the grain with me, especially in light of all the difficulties that Si and I had with the landlord in Massachusetts. But I've been trying not to be uptight about the lease, or the legalities of my residence. This is Alaska! People look out for one another. If there's a problem the landlord will get it fixed.
Except one landlord (they are business partners) is in New Zealand until mid-December. The other is in Canada until the 14th. My "substitute" landlord is the carpenter who built my loft ladder, a good buddy of theirs. And it's the weekend.
So I have called him. I have also gone out to the cabin long enough to turn off the Toyo, grab my toothbrush, and beat a retreat. Scout and I will be sleeping on my parents' couch until further notice.
So I was a little dismayed when, an hour into unpacking at the new cabin, I found her bundled into a catloaf on my bed in the loft. And there she stayed. She wouldn't come down except to eat and use the litter box, and that very reluctantly. I thought at first that she was cold, because my house runs a good eight degrees cooler than my parents', and the loft is colder still because the heater is on the main floor. But if that was the case why wouldn't she come downstairs where it was warmer? And why did she perk right up the minute that (at her insistence, and against my better judgment) I let her outside to explore?
Maybe she just didn't like my cabin.
I relayed all of this to my parents over the course of two days' phonecalls. My dad drove out on Friday so that I could go to the bank, and immediately commented that my house smelled very strongly of oil. No denying the truth of that statement, for sure. But it had smelled that way since the day they installed the Toyo. Our house in Germany smelled faintly but distinctly of oil; that's just what happens when you're heating your house that way. In smaller quarters, naturally the smell would be stronger, right? I figured I was just being a wuss and would have to get used to the odor. But coupled with my report of peculiar Scout's behavior, Dad was concerned enough to take the CO monitor out of my parents' house and loan it to me.
Meanwhile Scout is still tucked into herself on my bed. I notice she's a little glassy-eyed. Maybe she's ill.
Mom appeared yesterday to take me shopping (understand that the destination of most of these trips is not as important as the fact of my driving there; must practice). She gave me a big hug and told me I stink like oil. I take a big sniff of my clothes and find that she's right. My whole house stinks like oil. We bundle Scout into her carrier, since a "playdate" had been planned with Morgan (the cats bonded over their stint of cohabitation), and head to my parents' house to drop her off. She perks up immediately. Letting her out at Mom and Dad's house, she bounds out like a crazy thing to make sure the food is in the same place it was three days ago. She and Morgan make noises like thundering elephants as they chase around the upper story.
Hm.
We run into one of Mom's coworkers at the hardware store. He and his wife have both spent time living in dry cabins (it's a kind of rite of passage, right along with one's first winter in the Interior). I tell him that my Toyo is putting off a really heavy oil smell, and is this normal? He and his wife inform me very seriously that it is not at all normal, and something must be amiss in the setup of the stove. Do I have renter's insurance?
No I don't have renter's insurance. And you want to know the sad truth, I haven't even signed a lease, or a renter's agreement, or anything. People around here operate on the gentlemen's agreement, it seems, and for something as important as renting a house it goes sorely against the grain with me, especially in light of all the difficulties that Si and I had with the landlord in Massachusetts. But I've been trying not to be uptight about the lease, or the legalities of my residence. This is Alaska! People look out for one another. If there's a problem the landlord will get it fixed.
Except one landlord (they are business partners) is in New Zealand until mid-December. The other is in Canada until the 14th. My "substitute" landlord is the carpenter who built my loft ladder, a good buddy of theirs. And it's the weekend.
So I have called him. I have also gone out to the cabin long enough to turn off the Toyo, grab my toothbrush, and beat a retreat. Scout and I will be sleeping on my parents' couch until further notice.
::grimace:: Good luck. It's actually a very good thing that you have a cat and are so responsive to her moods. Otherwise you might just have sucked it up. CO poisoning is not fun.
I don't actually think that it's carbon monoxide, because the CO monitor would have gone ballistic. Besides which, CO can't be seen or smelled, making it all the more dangerous. And whatever the problem is, it's definitely stinky! It's not a burning smell, either, it's an oily smell, like stepping into a refinery. My guess is that something is amiss in the connection between the tank and the heater, and there is a slight leak. (A large leak and I'd probably already have been blown to kingdom come.) The heater is brand new, so I don't think anything is worn down, but possibly they didn't install it correctly. We shall see.