Don't worry lots of things to post about have happened, the role of ex=President Bill Clinton as "attack dog" or consideration of the greatest threat to our security. But my over-riding concern over the last 24 hours, on these 12 degree (F not C) nights has been the fact my furnace kicked the bucket. Maybe on death's door is a better description.
When it runs, it sounds like a buzzsaw. Actually, my miter saw is quieter.
After about an hour it starts kicking on for 10 seconds; off for 15 seconds, Repeat.
After a bit of that it just locks up, smells like a hot electric motor crossed with burning hair, and makes a weak imitation of its previous nigh-deafening noise.
The repair man is suppose to be here late morning.
Thursday, January 24, 2008
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