... wherein I bloviate discursively

Brian Clapper,

When the furnace goes out

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We live in bizarre times. I got home around 10:00 PM last night, having worked late, to find that the furnace was out. The problem turned out to be minor and easily fixed, but that wasn’t much help last night. It was 45 degrees Fahrenheit inside the house, and probably 10 degrees outside. I put a call into the company that services the oil burner, but I didn’t expect a callback that night (and I didn’t get one).

So, I lit a fire in the wood stove and sat down with my laptop to read email and watch a (legally) downloaded TV show. Given the age of my house (it was built circa 1870), it felt like an odd mixture of modern day and Victorian times (a la “Brazil”).

I slept in the living room, near the fire, thankful for the extra body heat imparted by my canine buddy, Basil.

Primitive heat, but modern Internet access. Go figure.