Annie packs heat.

Annie takes no guff. She takes no prisoners. She asks questions first, then shoots.

We are so upscale [how upscale are you?] that we have two furnaces: a 35000 BTU monster that heats the coach, and a tiny 7* BTU furnace that heats the bedroom. One dark and stormy night last week, the big furnace lost consciousness and went into a coma.**

*this is a lie

**when a grammarian loses consciousness, does she slip into a comma?

How big is YOUR orifice?

Consulting with Bill Fletcher, of Fletcher Trailer Sales (we love this guy), Annie got a handle on what might be wrong, got the part and fixed it. Almost. The space was too tight to get the old control board out and replace it, which wasn't the problem after all, and this sentence is a misdirection because the problem might have been a stripped wire, or might have been the ice maker line dripping onto the furnace, or might have been a bad connection somewhere else, but NONE OF THAT IS IMPORTANT STOP DISTRACTING ME. The point here is that Annie removed the furnace, took it to Bill, watched while he examined it, understood the problem, and brought it home and installed it.





That involves seating it correctly in this hole:

rewiring it, reattaching the gas line, and aligning the exhaust with the exhaust hole on the door:




••NOT SHOWN - I GOT COLD••

We can't blame 9.  He was just a child then.

and then it was warm inside. Magic!


















What Else?


The same weekend she did this:





and removed this:














So what if it was -8°F. just after sunrise this morning?  What could go wrong?†






† irony