“When it gets this cold….”
That was it. The only thing overheard this morning. Out in the suburbs of Chicago where I rise, my yard had a beautiful pristine white covering - down here the beauty was replaced with a slushy, gray mess – covering anything that dare trudge thru it – making walking without falling an art form. Did I mention it was cold?
So back to the snippet – “When it gets this cold……I would love to stay within the confines of my warm house venturing out only to retrieve the mail.” Did I say my “WARM” house…..sorry I obviously didn’t mean that.
Outside of my family home, where my Mom still resides after 44 years – I have never, EVER lived in/owned a home that was warm. It is a joke in my family that when they are going to “Sue’s house” they dress in extra layers.
Over the years I have owned four different homes. In four different towns. In four different styles. From a 1960’s Midwest style ranch, to a brand new stick built two story, to a California ranch, to my current 1899 small farmhouse – NONE have ever heated up properly.
The other night while watching t.v. from the couch – Keith turned to me and said “Do you feel that draft?” – I pulled the blanket down from my face and replied “Uhhhh, Yes!” We then discovered there is a full on breeze that comes out from the bottom of the baseboards. “You think that might be why it is freezing in here?” I say. We are looking to “caulk the crack” to possibly achieve some amount of warmness – hopefully before the thaw of spring.
Do you think that the lack of warmness within my houses is some sort of sign? A metaphor of sorts for some deep rooted personal issues?