It is warm for sure, not so sure about the peaceful part. Yes, the heat is fixed. They finished up yesterday around 2:30 pm, just enough time for me to get my oil changed and replace both headlamps that burned out yesterday, then get the kids from school.
I was thinking about how I turned into a helpless teenager when the furnace stopped working. The first thing I did was call my dad, he used to be a sheet metal worker, and ask if he had any advice. Not that it would have helped, I'm not very good with my hands. Who am I kidding? I'm useless. I can tell you how a furnace works, if you tell me how something works I can understand it, but putting a tool in my hand is asking for trouble. Whatever the thing used to be, will become a pile of useless materials.
I've been this way forever. I have what is called stupid hands. I can visualize what to do, but someone else's hands need to perform the task. I'd probably be really good with those robot hands doctors use to operate on people thousands of miles away. That's what I need! A robot!
I'm the same way with art. I can visualize a lush meadow with a man and a woman running down the hill hand in hand, with a beautiful orange sunset. When I am done drawing there are two stick figures standing in some green scribble with a roughly circular orange blob in the corner. "Now that is art," my hands say. Poor hands, so willing, but so dumb.