Our family is huddled around the fireplace in the master bedroom, watching "Fairly Oddparents" and eating pizza we just had delivered. Don't imagine that this is some warm, cozy family moment. We're in the bedroom because it is on the only floor in our house that has heat right now.
One of our furnaces is not working. It stopped working Wednesday, before we left for Thanksgiving with the in-laws in Lindsborg, so we knew we were in for a cold night when we got back yesterday. The upstairs furnace is apparently fine; the top floor is a comfortable 70 degrees. The main floor is a chilly 59. The basement -- a frigid 50. Considering we're expecting a low of 24 degrees overnight (with more light snow flurries), I expect the basement to be even colder in the morning. No homeschooling down there tomorrow.
Again, I shouldn't complain. I know I shouldn't. But for crying out loud -- ANOTHER thing breaking down in our house??? And does this stuff ALWAYS have to happen on the weekend, when nobody will come fix anything?
But in the spirit of Thanksgiving . . I'm thankful we do have one furnace working so the house is livable. I'm thankful that it's working on the floor where our bedrooms are, so our sleeping routines aren't disrupted. I'm thankful for the insurance we have on these things. I'm thankful that Pizza Hut delivers. I'm thankful for sweatshirts, afghans, and comforters. I'm thankful for laptops that warm my lap as they run. I'm thankful for the ready-made science lesson -- "See, girls, heat rises". I'm thankful that tomorrow is Monday, when handymen make house calls. I'm thankful that we have big windows with a southern exposure on our main floor, so if the sun actually shines, the living room will get warmed pretty well.
And I'm thankful that we at least have hot water this weekend!
Once again, Eileen's sweet Puerto Rican accent is echoing in my mind: "Apparently, the Lord believes that I require further sanctification . . "