I have been warm before, but now I truly appreciate my warm-ness. Our furnace got very funky last week, and for the last few days, we have had to do a hoodoo voodoo dance to get it to run, and sometimes the dance didn't work.
Lucky things: That temperatures during the day have been hovering in the 50s. That our fire place and portable heater have provided sufficient heat in small areas. That a cool house at night isn't such a big deal, body heat being what it is. That Will runs around so much he usually has an excess of heat. That Jack had a sleepover this weekend and a day-long science fair, so he didn't have to suffer too much.
Today the furnace guys came and brought us a new furnace. The new furnace cost less than the parts to fix the old furnace would have cost. Go figure.
Being warm reminds me of something I've been meaning to tell you. If you live in a place where it gets cold, go get yourself some silk long johns. I ordered mine through Campmor; they cost about forty bucks, and they add very little bulk, so you can wear them and still snap your jeans. They have made me about as happy as a pair of long underwear can, and I wear them all the time. It's my little secret of warmth!
I also wanted to tell you that last night I started reading a book called The Scent of Waterby Elizabeth Goudge. I had never heard of Elizabeth Goudge until somebody mentioned her on their blog--was it you, Pom Pom? This book is magic. It was published in 1963, takes place in post-WWII England, and concerns a middle-aged woman who inherits a house in the countryside. I am completely enthralled.
So I am warm, and I have a good book, and my children are home, and dinner is leftovers from last night. That's all my news for today, but it's good news indeed.
I'm a writer and a stay-at-home mom who keeps meaning to mop the floors because I think it would make me happy if I did. I love books and music and writing, spend entirely too much time in the dentist's chair (I bet I have more crowns than you do), and used to think I was sort of bohemian, but now I wonder. No tattoos. Minivan. That story.