Well, it's different. Different from my old wood stove. This is the cellar of the apartment building where I am currently being superficially domesticated. (I am being domesticated in the building, I hasten to add, not in this cellar, per se.) I managed to fool everybody in the building into letting me take control of this space. This way, somebody keeps an eye on those gauges and orders heating oil, and I get a workshop. Everybody wins until the darn thing blows up.
Above is the 6000 litre (1585 gallon) oil tank. You can't really tell. It just looks like a large, squarish cement-kind of thing.
Heating with oil is horrid, horrid, horrid, of course, though seldom chosen for entirely psychopathic reasons. I will return to this subject.
Bellow is the furnace. It heats up both the hot water tanks and the water used for the radiators. I have had some problems in sorting out what pipes lead to what, but I think I'm getting the hang of it. That blue thing is a pump.
So much that can go wrong. City folks put up with so much.
I visited my former cat, the evil Felis, recently. As can be seen below, she now lives with civilized folk. She has put on some weight and seems enormously content. She was happy roaming the forest too, I imagine. But there is a time for everything. I thought I'd post a picture of her because hey, she's a cat.
She is, as always, thinking of murder.
3 comments:
Attempts at my domestication have been off and on over the years. They have been largely unsuccessful meaning that success has been momentary. That's why I live in the front yard. The general results of those attempts is that I am mostly housebroke. I am allowed in on occasion if I remember the rules but it is hard. I can eat in there so I am one up on the dogs but they don't hold it against me.
Watch out for cats. They know you for what you are and they know when you know them and they resent that. I pity anyone that thinks a cat is domesticated.
I love the new/old man cave. I could steampunk that up in no time making it seem more dangerous and ominous than it already is. Oil, pumps, electricity, fire with a possibility of smoke and heat. What more could a boy want. Needs more dark mysterious corners, less light, spider webs, tools strewn around and maybe even some bones. Oh yeah, and some incense that smells like burning rags and hair. That will put those city folk on edge. Heh, heh that could be fun.
Thanks Mark, this story demands my reply.
But first the Oldfool, don't you think it could smell of dank, rich earth.That is what my grandfather's cellar smelled of.
As for the cat, yes they are deadly I know.
I'm looking forward to reading about the oil, for one thing because I am all electric here except when I burn wood. Which is smokey, although that mostly goes up the chimney. Very cheap and fun but it isn't convenient.
I have enjoyed your blog since Mr. Beer N Hockey linked me over, thanks for continuing.
- Jonku
HA! My cat thinks only of murder as well.
I like your style.
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