I was taught that God didn’t like ugly.  I thought I knew what that meant.  I had heard it enough growing up, but the generation that raised me didn’t like to be specific. They liked to talk in sayings to let you come to the conclusion on your own. (Read the post called Chestnuts – it’s not about the Christmas Song).   Some of these things have taken years for me to understand. Last week, in the course of conversation, I commented that it was wonderful that I didn’t have to be cold. We talked about how nice it was not to have to commute in the subzero temps. Then the furnace decided that it was an ugly thing to say.  I thought I was complimenting it on its fine work, its dedication to keeping me warm, its precise engineering, but I guess I was gloating.  One entire day of cold, two trips by the repair guy, shoveling away a snow drift in the dark and waiting for a new motor for our three year old high efficiency furnace seems like a lesson to me.  So now, when I pull on a sweater or an extra pair of socks, I won’t say anything.

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