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Published: September 1st 2018
Blue Eyed Monster
A hot water on demand contraption
And on to the downside of staying in someone’s home...
Every place has its quirks, and - no matter how complete the owner’s instructions (and Christina is quite thorough and well-organized) - every guest will find the tender spot. The prize for doing so ranges from inconvenience to terror, depending on how much electricity is involved. I got a good dose of both (inconvenience and terror, not electricity) when I took my first shower.
The cottage features an on-demand water heater for the shower, which we will call the Blue-Eyed Monster, or BEM for brevity (too late, I fear).
So, to alert the BEM that hot water will be required, one must pull a ceiling cord hanging nearby. The blue eye lights up to indicate readiness, and one can then step into a (deep, narrow) antique tub. Press the lighted blue eye and PRESTO! Hot water rains gently down, and the ablutions proceed. So far, so good. Until, that is, I touched the High Flow/Low Flow toggle switch. One must never, ever (ever) touch the High Flow/Low Flow toggle switch, I later learned from Christina (now in Italy), who had neglected to mention this verbally, or in writing.
Apparently faulty switch
Now, I ask you: why would someone put a very prominent (also blue-lit) button on the front of one’s BEM if it is not meant to be touched (ever)?
Well, let me tell you: I never will again. I have indeed learned my lesson.
Suddenly, orange and red lights flashed warnings about Water Level and Reset, the water turned icy cold, and a horn akin to a smoke detector blasted every other second for the endless minutes it took me to scramble out of the tub and press the BEM and pull its ceiling cord sufficienly to turn off both water and the horn.
Half-washed and fearful, I fled the bathroom and contacted Christina. Apparently I reached her before her own shower (and coffee), because she kept saying “Jesus Christ“ when I described the drama (and the fact that the lights on neither the BEM nor the ceiling cord box will turn off now...) I believe that her visions of “a two hundred quid” repair bill might have overtaken her concern for my being able to shower for the next month, but she relieved her distress by repeating instructions to me about never, ever (ever) touching
the High Flow/Low Flow toggle button.
Fortunately, she was able to reach Dean, her ”darling handyman” who is very, very (very) busy. He came by that afternoon, and his calm shrug was immensely reassuring. Apparently the ceiling cord has a faulty switch, which he replaced the next day, and now all is in good order. And, I might add, he didn’t once mention not touching the High Flow/Low Flow toggle button.
Tot: 3.44s; Tpl: 0.057s; cc: 9; qc: 48; dbt: 0.0399s; 3; m:saturn w:www (22.214.171.124); sld: 2;
; mem: 1.4mb