Cosy Homes

I just finished writing my parent lecture for the Heart of Texas Suzuki Workshop this weekend.  I love doing this because it forces me to reflect upon all the mistakes I've made and all the screwed up things I've said to my own kids while practicing piano. Lecturing other parents can serve as some sort of cosmic redemption for me.  My worse fear is that there is a hidden camera in my studio and all the video footage of my sins will be aired in a documentary discrediting my lecture.  Actually, the truth is, I love these talks because sharing information with other parents reminds me how to be my own very best parent.  That's the positive spin.

Cosy Homes Make Happy Childhoods.
That's what the poster says.  The poster my grandma had in our room in her house for years and years.   Now it's framed in my laundry room. It was an advertisement for hot water radiators.  Little girls playing in their rooms with their dolls.  Clean, quiet heat.

Three weeks ago the humidifier on the furnace broke.  You remember the woe-is-me mold blog entry.  I PROMISED my husband I would not blog about him fixing it himself.

I don't want to break my promise, so you are going to have to use your imagination about the state of our house with no humidity. Imagine the cats are wandering around looking like something between Einstein and Thomas Edison.  Imagine that I'm worried my cell phone will spark and cause them to spontaneously combust. To keep the pianos safe in this drought I'm having to run the little Sears humidifier full blast in the piano room.  Imagine it sounds like a jet engine gone astray. There is this little noise every time the furnace kicks on. It sounds like our neighbor dragging his metal garbage can across the driveway.  My mind keeps turning to a scene from The Christmas Story where the dad is working on the furnace in the basement and soot comes up through the registers into the kitchen.  This is also the scene where the little boy learns a full slate of profanity.

Well.  I'm off to put more lotion on. And chapstick. And eye drops. And then to Target for Cling Free sheets for the laundry. And some of that spray to keep my yoga pants from sticking to my shins.  Then I'm off to Austin this weekend.  I should be able to rehydrate there.

Oops.  I think I broke my promise about the blog. I have full faith in my husband. The new part is in the mail. It wasn't his fault. Who knew the brand new humidifier from Home Depot would come with a faulty valve?  Who knew the other whole host of hoopla that went on AC/DC conversions bla bla bla. . .  Thank you Bill, for working a sixty hour week and spending your weekend fixing the furnace.  And your next weekend.  We sure wouldn't have wanted to pay for that service call.  You are eternally my hero.