December 1st! Coming up: the twelve coldest weeks of the year [on average]. Hard to believe that in just six weeks, it will actually be getting warmer out [on average] and that in twelve it will be no colder than it is now [on average].
I guess it’s hard to believe because we have, so far, had an unusually mild late autumn.
Nonetheless, I just checked, and the warmest it’s been in the warmest part of our house this week was 60.2ºF (lowest, in the warmest part, 50.2º) Right now in here it’s 57º, which has come to feel “warm” to me. We are routinely eating breakfast at about 54º (and hats) without too much trouble.
Still haven’t managed to get the wood stove installed, so thus far we’ve just been heating, to the extent that we are at all, with one space heater, the electric blanket, lights, cooking, dishwashing waste water, crankin’ the stereo, etc.
There was one amusing story recently: A relation of J’s came up for a night last week, from southern New England. She knew about all this barely-heated-house crap and was, I gather, prepared to be miserable. On arrival, she remarked that it was f#*(ing freezing in here (I’m paraphrasing from a second-hand account) and noted that she is no softy, she keeps her thermostat at 62º, but this is just ridiculous. Then J went and found the thermometer and determined that in fact it was 64º inside. She was pretty pleased I think. Anyway, the moral of the story is that at least half the question of comfort is in one’s head, and has as much to do with expectations as with reality.