Warm fuzzies

Last night we sat down to dinner to eat the descendents of Bambi and Rudolph. I myself ate two bites of Bambi and one of Rudolph before I decided I would rather just fill up on sweet potato and creamed corn. Scott of course ate it, though there was really never any doubt of that, and the kids seemed to enjoy it too. Owen kept going on and on about how he just loves chicken while he was cramming it into his mouth and the girls didn't seem to care either.

While we were eating we commented on how warm it was in the house. By the time we finished eating we were sweating. It was around 90 degrees in the house then and we found that the air conditioner was not working. Scott got his tools and his three very willing non-helpers and they worked on it until after 10, during which time Owen learned a new word. It was unbearably hot and I was all worried because Amy and the boys are supposed to come over today to scrapbook--yes, you heard me right, I am going to attempt to make a scrapbook--and my goodness it was just too hot to be here. I had our property manager's number out and was watching the clock this morning at 6:30 trying to decide how early was too early to call and Scott started messing with it again and it came back on.

Thank goodness it's working right now because today is supposed to be another hot one. It reminds me of the time we lived in Fairbanks and there was no air conditioning because, well, it's Alaska and all, and it got really hot one summer and we all used to go to Fred Meyer and walk around to cool off. Amber, Tina, anyone? You know you remember!