g the water pipes, and the furnace itself, the young plumber left saying that he would have to pass the problem on to his boss. The next day the boss plumber came, inspected the fireplace and asked for a ladder to climb on to the roof. He took a screw driver with him. He tapped rhythmically on the chimney. "Was that the sound, Lois?" When the answer was affirmative, he came down from the roof saying that he had a theory but first, he would have to make a couple of phone calls. His source confirmed that his theory was correct. Here is a picture of the tiny culprit. Of course, it is a territorial thing, and now that we know the source of the noise, we can listen to the rhythmic tattoo with some equanimity and amusement. The sound reverberates not only in Lois' house but across a good portion of the valley surrounding Trout Creek. I am sure that in woodpecker land, there is no question that a claim has been staked for control of the territory around the swinging bridge in the Trout Creek hollow.
Friday, 21 May 2010
The Rattle In The Fireplace
A couple of weeks ago Lois began to hear a disconcerting rattle in her fireplace. It sounded as if a piece of metal had become dislodged and was vibrating against another piece of metal. At first it occurred mostly in the morning but then it began to occur at other times in the day. The first theory was that a bird had somehow fallen down the chimney and was caught behind the fireplace. That theory was discounted when the weather turned cold, and the fireplace came on. If it was a bird, the poor thing would not have survived the heat from the fireplace. When Bob was home he hypothesized that possibly the flashing on the chimney was vibrating. But after a careful inspection, Bob announced that there was no sign of loose flashings. The noise persisted, increased in frequency, and was heard by several visitors. Finally, the plumbers were called in. The first plumber was confident that he knew the source of the problem. "I'm sure it's the fan, Lois." Two hours later, after taking the fireplace apart, after checkin
g the water pipes, and the furnace itself, the young plumber left saying that he would have to pass the problem on to his boss. The next day the boss plumber came, inspected the fireplace and asked for a ladder to climb on to the roof. He took a screw driver with him. He tapped rhythmically on the chimney. "Was that the sound, Lois?" When the answer was affirmative, he came down from the roof saying that he had a theory but first, he would have to make a couple of phone calls. His source confirmed that his theory was correct. Here is a picture of the tiny culprit. Of course, it is a territorial thing, and now that we know the source of the noise, we can listen to the rhythmic tattoo with some equanimity and amusement. The sound reverberates not only in Lois' house but across a good portion of the valley surrounding Trout Creek. I am sure that in woodpecker land, there is no question that a claim has been staked for control of the territory around the swinging bridge in the Trout Creek hollow.
g the water pipes, and the furnace itself, the young plumber left saying that he would have to pass the problem on to his boss. The next day the boss plumber came, inspected the fireplace and asked for a ladder to climb on to the roof. He took a screw driver with him. He tapped rhythmically on the chimney. "Was that the sound, Lois?" When the answer was affirmative, he came down from the roof saying that he had a theory but first, he would have to make a couple of phone calls. His source confirmed that his theory was correct. Here is a picture of the tiny culprit. Of course, it is a territorial thing, and now that we know the source of the noise, we can listen to the rhythmic tattoo with some equanimity and amusement. The sound reverberates not only in Lois' house but across a good portion of the valley surrounding Trout Creek. I am sure that in woodpecker land, there is no question that a claim has been staked for control of the territory around the swinging bridge in the Trout Creek hollow.
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