Aunt Grace's house in Cornwall, Ontario boasted a basement. Basements were not all that common in England, unless in a castle, in which case it was called a dungeon and had an entirely different purpose. I hope.
Not only did Aunt Grace have a basement, she also kept a furnace down there. Living in England, I was not used to central heat, nor the weather that makes it a necessity.
Not to put too fine a point on it, the only furnace with which I was at all familiar was in the Bible, and involved Shadrach, Meshach and Abednigo. I couldn't understand why Aunt Grace and Mom were so insistent that I go down to the basement and view the furnace. I knew quite enough about furnaces, thank you.
I was actually rather disappointed with it, when I finally was persuaded to descend the basement stairs and peer at it in the dim light. No roaring fire, no victims, and no noticeable presence of God. Just a huge behemoth of iron and pipes, dormant for summer, but with the potential for bursting into awe-full life.
No comments:
Post a Comment