Today we need a shaman to put the fire back into our spines.
Our furnace stopped heating again, but not because it didn't want to provide heat, or couldn't.
It stopped because the exhaust fan stopped. That working fan draws carbon monoxide outside and prevents us from falling into a deep and breathless sleep, wearing only cherry red cheeks.
It's called a squirrel-cage fan because it looks like one of those rodent treadmills.
Or it's supposed to look like that. Ours looks like this. Oops.
So the mechanism that drives the fan works, but the fan itself, well, not so much. We need the shaman to exorcise the rabid squirrel that chewed up its cage.
Fire and exorcism.
Sounds like the novel might be exciting today.
Those are some rusty tools. Stuff doesn't rust here unless road salt gets on it. Here is better.
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