A scant four hours after I posted my lament the other day, the whole thing was over. The outside team packed up their tent. They filled up the trench, drove the excavator on to a flat bed truck and took it away. The huge pump with a water tank, left. Cars and trucks disappeared. All the pink flags all over the yard were collected. The inside guys came upstairs and set the thermostat for heat and humidity. And then, by maybe 6:00 that evening, everyone was gone.
I went down to the basement and found that all our detritus was back where it had been in the first place. The large chunks of metal and all the tools were gone. All that remained were the two new hot water tanks, brimming with wonderful hot water, and the geothermal unit itself, connected to the outside world with giant serious looking hoses.
Shortly thereafter, the heat took hold in the house. It began to feel like a warm blanket. The heat is, in fact, nicer. How can heat be nicer? I don’t know. On of the references I talked to beforehand told me this: “The heat is nicer,” she said. “I love it. It’s like a warm blanket wrapped around you.” I think it’s the humidity. After months in an arid desert environment, getting up to 30, or even 40 percent humidity feels incredibly soothing and nice. It feels nice to breath it.
In sum, I love the geothermal. It’s only been a few days, but at this point I say it’s definitely a boon, not a boondoggle. (Phew!!!)
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