Recently, where I live, the computerized thermostat has not been keeping the house as toasty as it ought to be keeping it. During the day, dad and his wife have the thermostat programmed to drop the household temperature down to a balmy 68 degrees while they are away. And then, just a few minutes before they are set to return home, it cranks up to 73-74 degrees so the atmosphere will be oozy-warm when they walk in.
Given that I have been on winter break and home quite a bit, I’ve spent a lot of that time bundled up in sweats and piles of blankets so I could get warm. On the really frigid days – like yesterday when the HIGH got up to 20 degrees – I turned on the gas fireplace to get some heat moving through my body because the heater wasn’t even keeping the house at 68 degrees, but instead, it was around 63 degrees. Too cold for these modern day expectations.
Last night, my stepmom got fed up with the lying thermostat and took matters into her own hands. She ripped its cover off and started poking around to see why it wasn’t heating the house appropriately. She replaced the batteries and… voila! The heater cranked on and, within minutes, the house temperature rose to 74 degrees and stayed there for the rest of the night. She was a happy, happy girl.
Me, on the other hand, I was still cold.
I’ve been cold a lot lately, when others have not been. When the temperature in the house is fairly warm – like it is now: 71 degrees – I still feel cold. I feel a breeze around me. You would think I’d be used to it by now.
But, I’m not.
After all these years of playing with magical beings, spirits, and dimensional creatures, you would think I would be accustomed to their cooling presence. I’m not. You would think that feeling breezes brushing along my skin when there is no open door or window would not surprise me. It still does. You would think that I would remember that no amount of heat and blankets can warm a body that is chilled this way. I forget that, at times.
Anyway, I do so love snuggling under blankets!