It wasn’t postmature ignitulation–but something like that happened to our old furnace while I was shopping. When I got home, the house was full of dark smells and weird heat–and the basement, when I checked it, was billowing smoke!
Three loudly-sirenaceous-red-firetrucks full of kind-and-cheerful-firemen later, the dirty firebox of my furnace was still smoldering but at least not billowing smoke all over the house.
‘You need to get the furnace cleaned every year,” said the fireman. Well, I usually do, but, dang, 2004 was busy with both daughters graduating, both daughters moving (twice), one daughter getting married, and just as things are starting to settle down Frank gets that Nobel phone call, and one of the things that slipped my mind was the furnace.
Not that I’m complaining, especially since our house did not blow up.
At least not yet.
Non-sequitur postscript–Don’t miss AccordionGuy’s double Bill Gates!