It’s the day after Thanksgiving. It’s 3 a.m. My grandson is snuggled on the bed under four blankets, two of his and two that belong to me. He doesn’t sleep in the bed. His preference is on the bed, but only if he has sufficient blankets to keep him safe and comfortable. I would be snuggled in bed too but my lack of sleep does not take a vacation even for holidays. I have been wandering the house in my normal tattered house dress that is too comfy to discard. Wandering and wondering is what I do while he sleeps.
It’s a bit chilly here this morning. I know because I left the window in the living room open and inch or so last night. As is my norm, while wandering I sat on the couch under the window, picked up a book to read, and realized it was a bit too cool there for my comfort.
Being a bit too cool are not words normally associated with me. I am the one who goes outside without a jacket with the temperature is in the thirties. I am the one who wears short sleeves year round. I am whose internal thermostat was reset years ago during a non-associated medical procedure. I am the one who has suffered being hot for the past thirty years.
My immediate reaction to the chill was to check the thermostat to see what temperature it actually is inside the home. Not that I would turn the heat on for my sake, but I have been known to do so for my grandson.
When I looked at the numbers displayed by the thermostat on the wall in the hall it showed 68º. Damn. So why is it that 68º feels so different when it’s not summer? Same temperature. Same thermostat. Same everything. So why is 68º no so much colder than 68º in the summer?
And don’t you dare tell me it’s the humidity. I love in Florida. There is always humidity. We live in humidity. We wouldn’t know how to live dry.
My theory is that there are really summer thermostat settings and winter thermostat settings, both controlled by the appliance industry. I had the repairman come this past year to do some sort of mysterious, expensive work on the cooling system of my house. I think at that time he ensured that when the outside temperature reached a certain low level, the thermostat inside would switch to winter mode thus ensuring that I would think something was wrong with the equipment and call for the repairman once again.
Either that or the people who designed these heat pump contraptions (that’s something we don’t need in Florida, anything that pumps heat) are in cahoots with each other. I’ve heard talk that the heat pumps work on a difference between the outside temperature and inside temperature and that the equipment can only maintain a difference of about 3 degrees. At least that’s what it sounded like to me when I wrote out the multi-thousand dollar check to pay for the newest cooling/heating device.
Now what am I going to do for the rest of the day. I find it too cool to sit by the window and read. I don’t own long sleeve garments to wear around the home. I can’t go back to bed because my internal sleep mechanism has been shown the daylight. I guess I’ll have to bake to warm the house. Christmas cookies don’t sound so bad. And maybe I can use them as a bribe to get someone to pull out the decorations and take pity on a soul that is too chilled to do the work herself.
If you’re in the area drop in for cookies and tea. But only after you help decorate. I have to keep my priorities straight after all.
From the mind and life of:
Wanda M. Argersinger
All Rights Reserved 2009