This weekend, we noted a loud squealing emanating from the depths of our basement, like the cacophonous death wail of a geriatric peacock. Heading down to investigate the trill shrieking, we found that the source of said sonic assault was our furnace. Being rather mechanically un-inclined, we were forced to call someone to examine and service the unit, and less than 60 minutes of work later, "Voila sir, here is your invoice for $1000." A massive TEN. ROBERT. BORDENS!!! <--That's the square faced fellow on the Canadian hundred dollar bill. All for less than an hour of actual work. Can you say LU... CRA.. TIVE. I should've gone into the Trades.
Below is a paperboard model of a castle I put together with my niece during her visit for Chinese New Year a couple weekends ago. Sometimes, I feel like our house is built to about this quality (ie: shoddy). But maybe that's just me still smarting from this furnace episode.
Alright, time for bed. I have a full day of breaking rocks at hard labour prison camp tomorrow. Gotta pay off the furnace bill somehow...
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