My 13-year-old great-granddaughter was telling of this really weird thing she had seen at her friend's grandmother's house. She was shocked at the concept of how it worked and asked, "Wouldn't that mess up your hair really bad?" She was describing the first hairdryer I (well, my family) ever had. The one with the plastic bonnet and the hose running from the bonnet to a little box with a motor which blew warm air up into the bonnet and there were holes in it to let the steam out and it dried your hair. It was so much more convenient than having to get down on your hands and knees and dry your hair over the furnace registers. I loved those old registers, though. In the morning eating breakfast hunkered over a register with a blanket wrapped around me to hold all the heat in. Course, when we had the coal furnace, you could get burned on the register. I'd straddle it sometimes if it weren't too hot, but sometimes I couldn't get my feet close enough to the edges without doing a split and burning something besides the bottoms of my feet. And I wonder why they called me Calamity Jane?
One time I had just got a new coat for Christmas and we went over to my aunt's house. They had a gas "space heater" type thing. Freestanding, kinda out away from the wall. I was cold, so I stood there with my back to the heater and I guess I was too close because I scorched my new coat. But I have a very clever mom. She cut off the bottom part of the coat (it had been knee-length) and hemmed it and created what later became known as a "car coat," basically a jacket, I reckon. I was so proud of her for being able to salvage my new coat that I had messed up so badly.