The Iconoclast Investor

Just over a year ago my wife and I moved into our new house in the tiny town of Nahant, the smallest town by area in Massachusetts–slightly more than a square mile stuck out to sea a bit north of Boston. Like with any new house, it takes some time to figure everything out. For us, the immediate issues when we moved in were what color to paint the walls, what we should keep our cats from climbing on and what room to give to our then-expected, since-arrived baby, Lila. Like anyone who has moved into a new house or apartment, you know other things that take longer to determine–which neighbors are nice (just about all of them), what restaurants deliver (reliably, only Chinese), and how much utilities end up costing (a lot!).

There is no escaping the fact that heating a home in winter isn’t going to be cheap. And last year the average homeowner paid a lot more to heat their house at least 10% more no matter what fuel you used–natural gas, propane, oil and even, as my brother-in-law in Maine reported–firewood.  This year, the expectations are for prices to hit us all harder. The Energy Information Agency says electricity and propane heat will rise about 11% each, natural gas 18%, and heating oil a stunning 23% to around $2,300 for the average household.

Since Lila arrived, my wife Jeanne won’t go for me playing Snow Miser and unfurling my chilled finger to turn the thermostat down. Since we’re committed to heat the house to a Florida-like 68 degrees (OK, OK, Jeanne, 70), we arranged for our energy provider, National Grid, to come by and give us a home energy audit.

Apparently, a lot of people have had the same idea, since we had to wait four months for our appointment, but he arrived on time last Tuesday. He measured our square footage, checked out our insulated attic, examined our Energy Star appliances and high-efficiency gas furnace, praised our on-demand water heater and even peeked at what apparently is fantastic wall insulation.

The good news: we’re the best house he’s ever checked out. And that’s the bad news, too. My hopes for trimming the heating bill this winter went out the window–or would have, had I not been so good about caulking them when we moved in.

“Oh well. Everybody wishes they could pay less. Be glad you’re not using oil,” the examiner told me, slipping a couple of CFL (compact fluorescent light) bulbs into my hand as he departed, like some energy high roller.