I am very late today and have nothing but sloth as an excuse. I went out to breakfast as usual, came home and read a bit of the paper and then decided to go back to bed. My little nap was for 2 and 1/2 hours. Gracie and Fern joined me. It was delightful and both warm and cozy.

The sun is shining for all it’s worth and is producing light but no heat. It is still in the 30’s, and I’m getting darn tired of winter. I want to put away my sweatshirts for the season and nap on the deck with the sun on my face. I’m tired of bare trees and empty gardens. I want fresh herbs I grew myself and a small vegetable garden. Nothing better than movies on the deck.

I imagine by August I’ll be complaining about the heat. I figure grousing is part of the human condition unless you’re somebody like Mother Teresa or Gandhi. If truth be told, I find grousing cleansing in its own way. Once all the complaints are out there, there’s nothing left but abiding.

I saw two walkers this morning, actually I could have called them trotters give their paces. They were bundled in winter coats, hats and gloves. I was not all all enticed to join them. Besides, they really didn’t seem to be enjoying their walk. One was far ahead of the other who was trying to catch up. I figured they were so cold they were hurrying to a warm home and hot cups of coffee.

My mother used to keep her house so hot the rest of us wore t-shirts all winter when we visited. She wore long sleeves in all that heat. Now I understand. I used to keep my house really cool, in the mid-60’s, and wear a long sleeve shirt. It was more than enough to be comfortable. At night I’d put the temperature down to 58° not because of the cost but because I was under the covers and have always had a dog to keep me warm. I’d turn the heat up to 65° when I woke up. That, I now realize, was a long time ago.

I wear a sweatshirt all day and the temperature is 68° in here. At night 62° is where the thermostat stays. Age is the reason, and now I know it was also my mother’s reason. Back then, I didn’t understand that. I imagine that if I reach 100, the house will be as warm as the dog days of summer.

It never occurred to me that growing older takes so much energy.

This entry was posted on March 27, 2011 at 1:26 pm and is filed under Musings. You can subscribe via RSS 2.0 feed to this post's comments.

Tags: cold, sun, winter