The Cross House
Yesterday, after a long time being dormant, the radiator system in the 1894 Cross House was, after much ado, reactivated.
As my post yesterday detailed, some highly distressing and unexpected results occurred.
Well, you can imagine my great excitement, and fear, at arriving at the house today.
Would all be well? Or would I be confronted with more highly distressing and unexpected results? Would pipes have burst and would I find the basement half-filled with water? Would ceilings have collapsed? Would water be spraying crazily across the gorgeous dining room table?
Justin and I arrived at the house at the same time, about 12:30PM. We stepped inside, nervously.
And were shocked.
We looked at each other, our eyes wide.
“Wow. Wow! WOW!”
The house was…warm. Quite warm. I have never experienced the house as warm.
We wandered. And discovered that every room was warm.
The most astonishing discovery was the stairhall. The massive staircase acts as a chimney, funneling warm air UP. When standing on the first-floor, this is highly obvious. And uncomfortable.
There was no draft. And there was no noticeable difference between the temperature of, say, the kitchen or dining room, and the stairhall.
Justin and I were gobsmacked.
Another astonishing thing was the quiet. The house was utterly silent.
This meant that the boilers, which are noisy, had shut down. Why? Because the thermostat setting had been reached! And it was 23-degrees outside! Considering how porous the house still is, this is remarkable. Astonishing. I could not believe it.
Justin and I walked, in a kinda daze, with silly smiles on our faces, all over the house. We eventually settled in the sewing room, sitting on the WARM marble tops of the two radiators. The sun poured in through the huge windows behind us, warming our backs further.