"That blasted stupid furnace dadgummit!"

The last few days our FIVE-YEAR-OLD furnace has been making quite a ruckus (and as with all mysterious mechanical items, no, I can’t exactly describe the ruckus). But last night it began to smell too . . . and that I can describe—a hot electrical sort of smell. Steve and I were up late as we walked the house several times, inside and out, checked every outlet and electrical item. It just had to be the furnace. We moved Charlie to our bed because we could really smell it in his room. I (barely) slept on the couch and made mental notes of the declining state of the blower each time the thermostat clicked on. This morning it took its last gasp and stopped altogether. Bummer. So I guess it was the furnace. I won't be able to talk to anyone until 8:00 to make arrangements for service. Thankfully, it does look like it will be warmer this week so perhaps we won't have to move to warmer locales this afternoon. In any case, I prepare our lessons for the week, stack up our books and wait. Have books, will travel.