My husband is kind of scary about heat. Not scary, that's not the right word. But he's one of those people, you know the type, the ones that like to keep the heat as low as possible. Like, just above the degree that it would have to be for you be able to see your breath. He runs hot, as a rule, so I don't think he gets cold the way normal (i.e. me) people do. I'm walking around, all bundled up in layers and just so shivering cold, when I wandered by the thermostat and realized that it's set at sixty degrees. Sixty. No wonder I'm freezing.
We've been together for almost nine years, and I'm just realizing this because this is the first place we've lived where we really controlled the heat. We lived in Maynard with Becky for the first year and a half, then with his parents for a year or two. Then we lived in an apartment that was so well heated by the apartment upstairs, when they'd turn up the heat, our apartment got warm because the heat ran thru the pipes. Then our apartment on Wall Street had one of those super old fashioned heaters that never really worked that well. Our last apartment just had radiators controlled by the apartment downstairs, so we didn't have any say in it.
This house is wonderful, I adore it. But it's got porcelain tiles thru the kitchen and living room, and hard wood floors throughout the rest of the house. And it's icy freaking cold all the livelong day. At night, it's not too bad, since we're under the covers and mostly snuggled up together. But I can totally see the need for me to invest in a bunch of rugs and sweatshirts to get thru the rest of the winter.
Julianna has a touch of croup. A touch, because she hasn't coughed since this morning, but she woke up with that barking cough. Jess and Sam never had it, but I recognized it right away because my nephews had it all the time when they were tiny. She's asleep on Marc right now, so sweet. Sam and Harrison have been tearing thru the house for the past four and a half hours, I'm so happy they're getting along so well.