This Thanksgiving, my sister warned me to “bring a sweatshirt” because it was cold in Reno.

It was cold in Reno.

It was positively freezing in her home – we were all bundling up inside as much as we were outside. I thought she was trying to save money by not running the heat. But then she said she was running the heat and I realized that a steady stream of cold air was blowing on me.

“Um,” I said, wary of big-sistering her, “I could be wrong but I wonder if your heat is working, because this air feels cold.”

She paused for a moment, testing the temperature of the air blowing her way.

“Sh*t,” she said. And called the repairman. Turns out her heat wasn’t working, some part was broken. It hadn’t been working for a long time. Possibly since she had moved in three years ago. She just thought that it was working and kept putting on more sweaters.

Ever wonder why the water heater breaks down right after you move into a new home? Or why the toilet gives up the ghost when you have a house full of holiday guests? Or why the pipe under your sink has burst – twice – while you were washing the crate of basil that you bought to make the annual batch of pesto that has to last you through the cold grey winter months?

It feels like bad luck but, as I learned from How Buildings Learn, it’s actually a question of the things in your home – and maybe your home itself – having to unlearn something it had learned in the past.

People are habitual and, when they use things the same way every day, the things get used to being used that way. Using them more often, or at different times of the day, or more intensely, stresses the system. And then they break.

Stewart Brand had lots of good, scientific reasons for why this happens, and I remember none of them. But this concept of buildings adjusting themselves to our habits has stuck with me. I am reminded of it every holiday when I’m at someone’s house and something breaks down from having to adjust it’s habits to supporting a larger group of people than it usually does.

Makes sense.

I bought this book decades ago and read it once.

Think it’s time for another read.