Of Uninteresting Things, That Turn Out to be Rather Essential

This attractive pile of scrap, dear friends, is the mortal remains of our furnace. And therein lies a tale (for which, thankfully, I have a captive audience, as I doubt otherwise anyone would want to hear it). For several weeks, I've been smelling an odd smell outside our house. And no, smarty-pants, it's NOT US. It was a metallic-y smell, and I assumed it was something to do with the cherry orchard on our property, which sometimes smells a bit odd after it's sprayed (and yes, I know that means I'm inhaling nasty chemicals. Why do you think we are trying to move?). It occurred to me two weeks ago that I'd been smelling it for a LONG time. I mentioned it to Scott; he thought our septic wasn't venting properly, perhaps? And then it struck me -- I was smelling propane. But outside, not inside the house. Our furnace is propane. Hmm. I considered the possibility of the house lifting off in Wizard-of-Oz fashion with me inside.

I called our very nice propane delivery man, who promised to come take a look. In a few hours, he was there, and came across the yard to say our propane tank was not leaking, but by the way, we had used an entire tank of propane in less than a month (that's $614 worth of propane, for those of you scoring at home). It's been a cold spring, but not that cold, friends.

Propane Man called his friend, who knows lots about furnaces (THIS is what I love about living in a small town -- fifteen minutes and your house is full of knowledgeable people who are checking things for free, bless their hearts!). Furnace Man began to poke around outside the house where our propane furnace vents. Then he called me outside. "See that stuff dripping out that vent?" he asked. "Stick your finger under it and then smell it ... no, never mind, your finger will stink forever. I'll just tell you. It's dripping propane."

Aha.

The vent is supposed to drip condensation only. My razor-sharp mind senses a problem.

Excitement ensued. Furnace turned off. Furnace ripped out. Furnace turned out to be a rebuild of the lowest quality. Furnace had gotten so hot it had melted its own pipes. We're glad we were never melted in the process ourselves.

You wouldn't believe how chilly things get when you're depending on space heaters in a 99-year-old house for three days in 45-degree-high weather. We shut up the upstairs and the kids slept in the living room, but it was still 60 degrees max during the day. I tried to imagine I merely lived in a Scottish castle with stone walls, but it didn't help at all.

At the end of the whole process we had this very handsome piece of home heating equipment:


If we ever get this house sold and move out to our property and get THAT house built, we're putting in a woodstove and a *supplementary* furnace. Without sounding like a survivalist, being entirely dependent on modern heating options is an excellent way to have to pretend you live in a Scottish castle. My chilblains are healing nicely.

So, obviously, we are very thankful we didn't explode, and we are also thankful for our lovely furnace. On a cheery note, here is a picture of the Flower Princess (self-named), who was flitting about our property Sabbath afternoon -- I took the kids out there to run around.


It was warm, sunny, and lovely, and the old daffodils that someone planted many years ago were blooming. The kids puttered about, the dog puttered about, and everyone got happily dirty. That's the sign of a good day.
Love, kristin

The Missing Pictures

Hah! I got it to work. I won't get into the details of whether it was Blogger or the Blogger user (me) who was making the error ... I will only get all upset again thinking about it!

Here, in all our splendor, you see the entire family at the zoo. Sometimes I look at my pictures and wonder if I look that silly ALL THE TIME, or somehow it just happens in photographs. I'm not sure which of those options is worse, really -- that I will be known to posterity as silly, or that I am known to the entire world right now as silly. The extra obnoxious point is that EVERYONE ELSE at my house takes beautiful pictures. Scott's never looked silly in a picture in his whole life, even when he's actively trying to! How does he DO that? He doesn't even like having his picture taken, and he still looks spiffy.


Benita and I at lunch after the zoo. We ate at Tutta Bella (which I think is a very silly name, but it's the most outrageously good Neopolitan-style pizza. I haven't had real, live, Italian-style pizza since I was in ... Italy. It's very different from American-style pizza: very thin, chewy crust, and a much thinner toppings layer. You can eat an entire 8" pizza all by yourself without being a total pig, since there's so much less there in total. It's not that I don't like Pizza Hut, or anything ... I don't believe there is a variety of pizza which I don't like! Except maybe the English-style pizza I had in England (imagine), with corn and a poached egg on top. Some things just aren't right). The coffee you see in front of us is only there as a prop, and its presence does not indicate that coffee was consumed by either of the picture's subjects. Why do you always assume that I'm drinking coffee constantly?? This picture is further decorated by someone's thumb (I think it was Steve's) and by Emily's little face in the background.

And, Rose Marie, per your comment on the previous post, Benita and Steve do live in Seattle again. I'll let her give you the info about how/why/when that happened and what they are doing with themselves now!

love, kristin

The Big City

So we decided to spend the last weekend of Spring Break at The Big City -- otherwise known as Seattle. Portland is the Slightly Smaller Big City. Anyway.

The fact that our friends Steve and Benita live there means that it's much easier (not to mention cheaper) to go stay at The Big City than if we were trying to find a hotel, etc. Leaving after Scott got done seeing patients on Friday meant that Friday night was pretty well shot, but Saturday we went to the Woodland Park Zoo. With about 5 million of our best friends. Seriously, we waited in line for about half an hour JUST TO BUY TICKETS. Apparently, it was the first sunny weekend day of spring for all the little Seattlites. Luckily, the zoo is a large enough property that we all spread out pretty decently once we were inside the gates and weren't too awfully crowded.

I don't believe in taking pictures of the animals at the zoo, because later one looks back and wonders why one did that (ask me how I know)! What you WISH you had taken pictures of is the people who went to the zoo with you! But I did have to take this one animal photo -- because he was just so danged cute, and I wasn't sure but what he might be made of plastic. I think it's a Chinese wax frog? I was too busy going, "Oh, look, isn't he cute??" to notice anything important about him:













And here, for your viewing pleasure, are some pictures of the afore-mentioned People I Went to the Zoo With! Yes, I know -- how they've grown (heavy sigh):












I have a couple more pictures, but Blogger does not want me to add them. One of them includes me; perhaps he is trying to save the larger public from any shock engendered but actually seeing what I look like! Of course, I know you all in normal life, basically, so I think the gesture is just too darn late.

I'll try to post the extra pictures in a later/second post. I hope your week is starting smoothly ...

love, kristin

She's ALLLIIIIIIVE!

Well. Is anyone still with me? Considering that I last wrote a blog post approximately TWO YEARS AGO, I'd be surprised. Scott mentioned the other day that he thought I should restart the blog, because it was a good outlet for my writing. That's a quote. I'm wondering if that means, secretly, that I'm making him bananas with snarky comments he wishes I would put somewhere else ... so other people besides him can be afflicted by my odd sense of humor.

As a reeeaaallly fast recap of the last two years for all those who don't share our daily lives, we have been buying property picking house plans considering making artisanal cheese as a side business teaching doing medical administration and having a preschooler third grader and sixth grader. There. That's exactly the speed at which it went by for me, too.

So watch this space. I promise to be more consistent about posting news, pictures, etc. Or: "I will post news and pictures," as opposed to "I shall post news and pictures." When I was in second grade, in a one-room school in Falls City, OR, our regular teacher had a serious car accident and was out of school for a couple months. We had a long-term sub who was a retired teacher in normal life. Looking back, I imagine she was in her early 70s. This was in about 1982, so I imagine she had begun teaching in the 1930s. She was the quintessential old-style teacher. I loved her! My point is, she taught us that "will" implies a promise and "shall" only indicates that you will attempt whatever it is. Why do I remember this detail? I have no idea. I can't specifically remember anything else she taught me. Perhaps it is a sign of my early attempts to think of ways to weasel out of things.

And now, though I am done teaching for the year, I leave you with a gem from this last quarter's final exam. The students read an essay comparing the way the Taliban handles women's rights (or doesn't, as the case may be) and the way the western world does the same thing oppositely -- by demanding rigorous beauty standards, oversexualizing women, etc. The question they had to answer was simple: "What argument are these authors making about women?" One student's approach showed she had a hazy grasp of recent politics and geography:

"If you went to Taliban, you would find there were different customs there."

love, kristin

Happy Easter, All You Who Are Far Away

I realize you aren't far away from where you are, but you're far from me, which is more important and makes me sad! I hope you all had a splendid Easter. Ours was quiet but fun; this was the first year Mara really grasped the point of an egg hunt. It was tremendously windy, so we all look as though we're a bit bedraggled!

love, kristin

Book Mania

I think I might have one (small surprise to those that know me). Scott plaintively asked a week ago or so if I might possibly move some of the books on the floor next to my side of the bed? He couldn't get the bedroom door properly open or closed! I think I redistributed approximately 20 books to various bookcases. Books that I've read recently, I mean. I read when Mara lays down for her nap (hah! Her time lying on her own bed, reading), I read before I go to sleep. I finish a book every few days.

Recently I've found two really good ones I'd like to share:

*With Christ in the School of Prayer by Andrew Murray* -- this is apparently a classic in religious works, though I had never found it until I noticed a mention of it in a Grace Livingston Hill book. Murray was a Dutch Reformed pastor in the late 1800s. This book is incredibly accessible, and I've found it brought up serious issues about prayer life which I can't believe I never considered before. I've been highlighting/underlining/annotating, and I think it would be easier to mark the places I WASN'T especially struck -- certainly, it would save ink to do so.

*The Love Affairs of an Old Maid by Lilian Bell*--another oldie-but-goodie. I think mine has a publication date of 1901. I bought it largely for the great title and beautiful binding, but it's such an excellent read. In diary-type form (well, the narrator is speaking, technically, to her cat), Bell brings up the most thoughtful points about love and marriage -- classic advice and philosophy, no matter whether one is currently embroiled in either one or not! I'll read this again, many times.

love, kristin

Wonderful Magazine

I've discovered (thanks to several other blogs) a really fun and informative online magazine: Rhythm of the Home. They publish quarterly, and have beautiful photos, thoughtful home and parenting articles, and lovely craft ideas. It's fairly 'crunchy' as far as parenting goes, but then if you know me you know that I am an odd mix of traditional and hippie-style parenting! (Yes, I am the woman who nursed all my kids to 18 months. But look how smashingly they've turned out! Or something.)

Anyway, enjoy! Even if you aren't a parent the pictures are great fun and provide a quiet spot in the day ...

Love, kristin