We have been having CRAPACIOUS wet, cold weather. On Monday, it struggled to reach 5 Celsius and was a wet, rainy day. (The normal temperature for this time of year is 20 C. Yes, TWENTY. Not FIVE. NOT FIVE! Hear me, weather spirits?!)
On Monday morning, I heard an omnious "bang" erupt from the basement. I chose to ignore this bang until I noticed that the house was getting colder. And colder. Because the DAMN furnace wasn't working.
My most excellent soon-to-be-a-lawyer-in-private-practice, please-hire-him-so-I-can-buy-myself-something-pretty husband not only diagnosed the problem, he fixed it.
A quick trip to Canadian Tire* to procure a fan-belt, and Mr. Fix-It was on the job.
(*Read about The Tire here if you're not Canadian and have not heard of our national institution for all thing hardware and automotive! And if you don't know about Canadian Tire money, I am sad for you. My high school music teacher once bought an entire lawnmower with Canadian Tire money! My cousin in a manager at the head office, but does not get me in-store discounts. Bummer! And the Tire has now branched out into banking. Geez.)
Bowing down before the furnace gods...
Yes, darling, it's a lovely fan-belt.
(But Mr. Fix-It required the powerful biceps of his wife in order to get the damn thing looped on the wheels!)
Furnace was fixed, heat was restored, and we were all happy again, or as happy as we can be dealing with days and days and days of rain and cold weather, both of which are preventing us and the farmers from getting vegetable gardens planted and fields sown with crops! (It is the day of the run-on sentence here at Knatolee's World.)
And this afternoon, I discovered that my FAT LAZY CATS had left me a gift on the family room floor...
I deliberately did not zoom in on this, as I figured none of my readers would appreciate a gore shot. Yes, it's a VERY dead mouse, sodden with cat saliva.
I have a rule here at Knatolee's World: You kill it, you eat it. The rule is regularly broken by every fur-bearing mammal in the house...