In the immortal words of Inigo Montoya, "I hate waiting." When last I checked, the water temperature had climbed from an initial 52 degrees (the first time we looked) to a lukewarm 89 degrees. Even on an unseasonably warm day like today, that is not optimal hot tub temperature. I had imagined that before bedtime on the first night, I'd be able to get into the new spa. I hate waiting.
I stressed out cleaning the final stage of the patio, scrubbing it with a deck brush and Simple Green, to get off at least a year's worth of mud, dog fur, and stray Murray pee. (I know I've done it more recently than that, but I don't want to take credit for better than a half-assed job.) I was just sure the delivery crew was going to show up right at 11, at the beginning of our window, and I needed to get ready. I kept at it, finding new tasks to do in the back yard. After a couple of hours of waiting, Murray got taken off to an experimental physical therapy appointment (that resulted in the same prediction: no change), and Elsa and I stayed, waiting for the delivery. Eventually I got angry, went inside, and played on my iPad while I waited longer. It wasn't until after 1 o'clock that they called to say they were 20 minutes out, and once they arrived, they called to say they were in the alley but they didn't know which house. I went outside, and quickly figured out that they were in the *wrong* alley.
They disconnected the old tub, and used a giant hard plastic skid to drag it across the yard and out the back. They pulled the new tub off of the truck, while I sat under the patio overhang, avoiding the sun. I looked up, and realized almost immediately that they had brought the wrong tub. I had picked out one that was 78" square, but when I came home and measured, I decided it would be better to get the one that was 70x84. The salesman had told me it would be a little bit cheaper, but when I went in to make the switch, he wasn't there and the other guy wrote the new contract for the exact same price. I was mad but didn't win the negotiation. I spent a week regretting my choice to change tubs. The original tub was the one that arrived, and I decided it was fate giving me another chance. I told them don't take it back. If they still had the original contract (they did), then I wanted to keep it. I feel better about doing that. It's a nicer tub, it's about 5 gallons bigger, and it has one more water feature (it says, but I'm not sure how they mean that) and it has two more jets. And it manages to fit in the space just fine, allowing enough room for the lifter, no problem.
I probably received instruction manuals when my dad gave me the first spa, but I don't remember now, two years later, where I put them. I've been reading the new manual with the experience of maintaining one for years, and I'm following along much better. I intend to follow directions more closely than we did with the older spa, and not just so I don't void my warranty. The start-up chemical process is more intense than I remembered from before, and it will probably cost me a tiny bit more to keep it going than I had been investing previously. It's okay, I'm saving money in other places, most significantly in electric use. It'll be worth it.
It has been almost half an hour since I put the first casting of chlorine in it. I can lower the lid soon, which will make the temperature come up faster. I'm waiting for it to hit 104, its max, just to know for sure it can get there. Then it'll come down to about 99 for the summer, maybe a little less. It's so hard to wait for the first dip.
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