The Epic Battle of the Furnace

Every year around this time Tom and I go head-to-head in a battle of sorts.

It isn’t a battle about the children, pets or vehicles. It isn’t even a battle about the toilet paper roll (a battle going on for the past 20 years, it will not end soon and it will not end well). The battle I am talking about is the battle of the furnace.

Shortly after we returned from spring break, “click” off went the furnace. It was a beautiful Easter morning with snow gently falling while my teeth chattered. What is going on? Wait. Let me guess. I went over to investigate and sure enough, the furnace was off. So, I quietly turned it back on … and up.

My husband, Tom, is a hopeless optimist, especially when it comes to spring. He simply cannot wait to ride his motorcycle or grill stuff on his super-deluxe grill. As soon as the Easter snow melted, the winter coats were boxed up and the doors propped open.

“It’s 40 degrees out!” I protested.

“It’s spring!” he grinned. “Boys! We’re getting the deck furniture out of the shed!”

Then it snowed again. I considered posting an apology on Facebook since it was our premature placement of deck furniture that caused a round of flurries. Once again, I found myself wearing fleece pants, double thick Christmas socks and bootie slippers. Once again, I checked the furnace. “Doggone it!”

And “click” I turned the furnace back on.

This past weekend it was relatively warm, but not the 70 degrees they promised us.

I unloaded and loaded the dishwasher Saturday morning and thought to myself, “I should be warm, but for some reason I’m not … well, whatdaya know?”

You guessed it. The furnace was off again. This time it was a little more understandable. It had been a really warm week, but we have such a well insulated house it can be pretty warm outside. But, it will be nose-cold inside.

Since Tom was working in the garage I took the opportunity to check the furnace, find it turned off, and turn it back on again. When he came back in and heard it running I said, “Don’t you turn the furnace off, it’s freezing in here!”

Later I went into town and came back to find Tom out on a ride. Gosh, my feet just wouldn’t warm up even after I put on my super warm socks and a sweatshirt.

The furnace was on … or was it? Nope. Off again. So I did what I always do and turned it back on.

Our little battle is usually a friendly one and fortunately, like many other things, reminds me winter is on its way out along with my fleece pants, double-thick Christmas socks and bootie slippers.

My Bra Gives Me More Support

I recently entered a writing contest and the following post was my second choice. The first choice article has been submitted and can't be previously published in a paper or blog. So wish me luck and enjoy the runner-up!

"You know I could sue you for that" remarked my 17 year old son after he discovered I had mentioned his name in the column I write for a local paper. I mistakenly assumed that after  three years my biggest fans would be my family. Think again. In the beginning Tom and the boys seemed to be OK with being in the public eye because what I wrote wasn't about them. My first indication that the support was waning was when I wrote about my husband referring to me as a "good little cooker." They guys at work thought that was pretty funny and gave him a little ribbing about it. He came home and firmly requested that any columns that included him needed to be reviewed and approved before they could be published. Then after the column about teaching my son Robby to drive, he came home and asked,
 "Did you write about me in your column? Don't do that anymore."
It was evident that support was decreasing. Then came my younger son, Sammy. Apparently his buddies at school had read a column of mine and spent the lunch hour joking about it. He told me that absolutely under no circumstances was I to write about him ever again. Strike three. Do you know how difficult it is to write a column about your life without including the members of your family? Some of my best material comes from my husband and teenage sons. They can be downright hilarious at times. It bugs me that they have stifled my creative outlet so at times I use it against them,
"You better get your keister over here and do these dishes or I'm going to write about you in my column!"
Robby did eventually soften up a bit. When I asked him if I could please write about his homecoming nomination, he said, "It's your column. Write about whatever you want." Sammy, on the other hand, has not. I did mention his name but it was about my husband and I going to his football game, so it wasn't technically about him. There really is a fine line between letting it all hang out and respecting the dignity of your family. I'd love to write about the never ending trail of dirty socks strewn about the house, but in doing so it might cause repercussions that I'm not prepared to deal with at home. For the sake of an interesting and humorous column I'll have to choose my words carefully and find creative ways to highlight the antics of my semi-supportive family without a pending lawsuit.