Up until about a week ago, this 26 year old furnace kept our little home warm. When we bought our house almost 2 years ago, we knew that at one point the furnace would break and we would have to replace it. I have to admit though, there was a part of me that thought our ancient furnace live to see 50, but I was wrong.
So, today, the Professor and I are camped out in our spare bedroom. We’re wearing layers, running our space heater, drinking tea, and hoping for heat.
Lucy and Olive are our two backyard hens. Like all good hens, they like to peck, roost, bath in dirt, eat clover, and lay eggs every morning. Like all bad hens, they do not like to be held, chased by the cat, or put back in their coop.
Multiple times a day, I stand at my kitchen sink, wash dishes, and look out the window. Sometimes our wonder cat will hear the water running and jump up on window sill. He lets me know that he’s hungry, (of course), and needs to come in for a snack.
I wanted to give the window a little Christmas decoration, so I dried some orange slices (6 hours at 175* on a lightly greased cookie sheet, turing a couple of times) and hung a string of cranberries. Festive, no?