Death of a Box Fan

The poor, poor fan. It has served us well. This $15 fan was bought at least 8 years ago. When we were starving students at BYU, the apartments we lived in did not have any central cooling system to speak of, just heating. Our little two bedroom apartment had the sun beating down on the front side, facing west-southwest, for a majority of the day. The first summer we lived there, we could not afford a window air conditioner. But we both worked days and just suffered through the evenings. The next summer rolled around and I had a 5 month old and was going to be home most days. We needed an air conditioner. So we scrimped and ate noodles for a month, and bought an AC and a fan to circulate it to the rest of the apartment. It was wonderful!!

Time passed and we moved on, graduating and moving to Virginia. We lived in a townhouse that had central air, but good 'ol boxy still got plugged in every night and provided back ground noise for sleeping Grant. Or to blow out the fumes from a dinner gone wrong.

More time passed and we moved to Egypt. Boxy sat unused for the first year because, yet again, we had central air. But the next year, Jacqueline was born and the need for a white noise maker came about again. Every night, we switched it on and (usually) we all slept in bliss. When we packed out and the fan was gone, there were some sleepless nights without our resident white noise.

Now, we are in yet another location and in need of cooling. Yep, this place does not come equipped with central air. Although, south western Idaho is borderline when it comes to NEEDING central air. I bought two window air conditioners and we are doing fine. We just needed the fans to circulate the icy air. Then two nights ago, Mairyn comes into my room. **

"Mommy, the fan stopped."

I stumbled out of bed and checked Boxy. Sure enough, it had quit. The motor part was hot hot hot. Fortunately, we had a spare fan and I leaned Boxy against the wall. In the morning, I plugged him back in and flipped the switch. Nope, no air stirring in this bad boy at all. It was a bit sad. This old box fan has been a part of our life as long as most of our children. I didn't cry (much) but it will be a sad morning tomorrow when the trash man comes and hauls it away. We will miss you, Boxy. You served us well.



**Mairyn has a creepy way of coming into my room at night when I'm sleeping. She doesn't touch my shoulder, or poke my side or try shaking me awake. She just comes up to the bed, leans in close so we are nose to nose and starts stage whispering. "MOMMY! THE FAN QUIT BLOWING!!" Thank you, Mairyn, so so much.