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I had "a moment" this morning when I got out of bed.
It was a mere 1 degree and the first words Mr M uttered after he said good morning were,
"honey, the heater isn't working"
He didn't mean this fireplace which heats most of the house.
And he didn't mean this open fire which if truth be told, we have never actually used.
He definitely didn't mean the outdoor firepit.
He meant our very ugly plastic looking gas heater that warms our family room and kitchen area.
I nearly had a hissy fit.
How could he have neglected to tell me this last night so I could put emergency measures in place?
It would never happen if we had a gorgeous heater like this.
Or this.
It turns out though, that in a small country town, there is still good old fashioned same day service and by lunchtime "Bill" the heater man had diagnosed and treated our ailing gas heater and pronounced she was back in "tip top shape".
