I’ve got stuff to tell you.

First, the furnace. Remember how I was all, “…the furnace can be fixed; the problem isn’t terminal.” Well, strike that. Reverse it. Our furnance is kaput; it has to be replaced. Unfortunately, we had to give up several hundred dollars and fire the furnace guy with the sherpa hook-up to find that out from our new and most favorite furnace guy.


There is a silver lining twinkling around this cold, gray cloud. I just happened to remember that we have a home warranty! While it won’t pay to replace our furnace, it should curtail the cost a little. We’ll know more tomorrow.

(Lesson learned today: Stop rolling your eyes at your father. Especially when he says things like, “I think this home warranty thing is a good idea. I’m going to go ahead and get it, just in case.”)

And while we have to get a new furnace, we’ve decided to stick it to the man and say good-bye to our oil-guzzling, carbon imprint stamping, 81% effiicient, uber-expensive let down of a furnace. It was dumb. We’re going to get a new, 95% efficient, clean burning, earth-loving goddess of a propane furnace that I’d like to name Wildfire.

Meanwhile, I’m staying warm making these:

Heart-Shaped Buckeye For Valentine's Day

Chocolate hearts. GIANT chocolate hearts. They’re about the size of a cupcake. Each one has at least 3.5 ounces of chocoate (that’s the equivalent to the weight of four Reese cups). But that’s not all. These hearts are stuffed with my magic buckeye filling. Look!

Mmmm...yummy peanut butter guts.

What do you think? Do they look good? Be honest! I’m sending some to work with Dave to hand out to my best buckeyes customers to see if anyone is interested in them for Valentine’s Day. I have to charge at least $2.50 per heart to make anything on them. Is that ridiculous?

My taste tester was impressed.

My Buckeye Taste Tester

But she’s also impressed with her own poop. So, I’d like to know what YOU think. I know you can’t taste it, but let me know how it looks. It’s okay if you need to crush my spirit. Go ahead. Better you than someone close enough for me to strangle.