Ode to a Home Performance Contractor

For 11 years people at Home Energy have bugged me to write a "home performance poem" because they know I am a poet as well as an editor. Well, it finally happened. I participate in a writing group and the last time we got together we decided as an exercise to write about something we have never written about before. Hope you like it!

Ode to a Home Performance Contractor

My name is House. I stood before you empty

and foreclosed upon. Despite the spray foam and

the dense pack, there was thermal bridging. I took

little comfort in my rain screen

and ceaselessly prayed on my knee wall.

From stem wall to ridge vent

I bled heat. In the winter there were ice dams.

Damn ice! Damn ice dams!

Then, my albedo meant nothing.

It helped only the clouds, if there were clouds.

The carbon of my despair

raised Earth’s temperature. This is real

you deniers, you Sons of Birches!

Simpson Strong Tie you up! Chinese drywall you!

Dust mite smite you! I wish you

exacerbated asthma and frequent trips

to the Emergency Room for your primary care.

As the snow melt poured into my gutters

there was no gentle slope away

from my foundation, no proper

drainage and the dew point was above

ambient temperature. I can’t handle

the moisture. Oh the mold!

Oh the humidity!

But you came with your blower door

and your Duct Blaster; your flow hood

and infrared camera. My love,

you sealed my bypasses, dressed my walls

in R-38. You completed

both my pressure and my thermal boundaries.

You established my drainage plane

and taught me to dry to the outside.

You taught me passive survivability.

We don’t need no stinking grid!

You charged the batteries

in my CO monitors.

You ravished me

with your thorough energy audit.

You had me

at Recommended Measures.

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Comment by Melissa Baldridge on September 22, 2011 at 6:26am: 'LOVE IT. Thanks for writing and sharing this.

Comment by Jim Gunshinan on September 13, 2011 at 11:33am: I love it Pat! Poets unite!

Comment by Pat Dundon on September 13, 2011 at 8:17am: My humble apologies for parody, not poetry.

Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house

Not a cool draft was freezing, to wake up the mouse.

The owner called a contractor with knowledge so rare,

In hopes that great comfort soon would be there.

The children were nestled all snug in their bed,

With nary a cough or a cold in their heads.

And Momma in her Kerchief and I in my cap

Had just settled down for a long winters nap.

When from my neighbor there a rose such a clatter

I sprang from my bed to see what was the matter.

Away to the window I flew like a flash,

Tore open the shutters & threw up the sash.

My neighbor stood there in the new fallen snow,

Begging & pleading the wind not to blow.

Then to him I did shout plain, loud and clear,

You need a performance contractor, you need him right here

He called the next day, and asked for help quick,

The contractor knew what made that house tick.

More rapid than eagles his testers came

As he whistled and shouted and called them by name

Now blower door, manometer, analyzer, & smoker

On IR, on loggers, on hoses, and pokers

To the top of the house, to the top of the wall

Now test away, test away, test away, all.

As dry leaves before the wild hurricane fly,

When he hit an obstacle he beat it quite sly.

So throughout the house his testers they flew

With many theories, ideas, and solutions too

And then in a twinkling we felt the proof

The snow no longer melts on my neighbors roof.

He had been in the attic and said he had found

No hose on the fan and a bypass, big deep and round

He was pleased when he found in the chimney no soot

Then he went to the basement & crawlspace to root

No hole was left unfound not an idea did he lack

He looked like a magician opening his sack

His eyes how they twinkled, his dimples how merry,

While he explained how the house worked to my friend’s wife Sherry

There was not an answer he did not know

And in the end we all laughed at the snow

No longer slaves of winter winds teeth

Now we look forward to hanging the Christmas Wreath.

When the oilman comes he now cries like a baby

When we tell him we'll see him next month - may be.

We are now comfortable and in good health

We breathe clean air, my friend & myself.

With a wink of an eye and a twist of his head

The performance contractor turned and smiled , then said

This house is now fixed, now it will work.

We have control of the airflow and know every quirk

While packing his tools to get ready to go

He explained to us quickly the things we should know

A shell guy will work hard to make the house tight,

but he needs help from an HVAC guy to make it just right.

The performance contractor is the one to call

To make a house work best for one and all .

And then we heard him exclaim as he rode out of sight

Merry Christmas to all and to all a good night!!

Edited from the original version by

Pat Dundon

Comment by Pat Dundon on September 13, 2011 at 3:24am: look at my attempt fron about 10 years ago http://insulationman.com/scribbling/Twas_the_Night_Before_Christmas...

oh... the voices are speaking again

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