When I got home today at 3:00, I walked into a frigid house. Have you ever burned your hand on the burner of a stove? I did that, only I froze my hand on the granite of the counter top. Don't even ask me about, ahem, the toilet.
The thermostat read 59 degrees, which seemed downright balmy compared to the 25 degrees outside. Further inspection of the heating unit resulted in an appointment with an HVAC guy coming to the house tomorrow.
Thank goodness for fireplaces and space heaters. Tonight we're sleeping "Walton style," all snuggled together in one bed. Wish me luck.
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Did ya wear the hockey mask we gave you?
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