the cold war.

it's surprising how quickly we became little birds nesting up our bedroom with blankets all around, creating our own bed-in when the furnace gods reared their angry heads and said "enough with the heat in this house."

clank sputter cough whirrrr. fizzle.
said the furnace, listening intently to its overlords.

and we hurridly called the HVAC peeps, who said it'll take a couple days, but you'll need to be there when we are ready. so you just sit tight and wait.

so sit tight i did. baked an apple pie from scratch, crust included, crafted, crafted and crafted.

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

I love this.

You must be drawn to writing poetry. Do it more.