Sunday, August 9, 2009

To heat or not to heat

We spent a few hours up at East Caroga lake yesterday, hanging with some friends and enjoying an Ice Cream Social at the Clubhouse. The topic of conversation was, of course, the weather. Specifically, which hubby caved in and turned on the heat, and who was proudest of holding out and not giving in to the pressures of cold feet and hands. Some men see turning on the heat in August as an affront to their masculinity, as well as an insult to the checkbook. Most of the women we polled on the beach agreed that Saturday morning with temperatures hovering in the 40s qualified as a heatable morning. Cathy had her grandchildren with her, and a chorus of "turn on the heat cheapie!" was shouted out in the early morning hours. This guaranteed an immediate response with their gas powered fireplace. I now know where to go if the temperature drops again. There will be heat at Cathy and Dave's house. Fortunately for me, the temperature this morning is hovering around 65, so we are not having THAT argument. Jerry feels that heat before October is outrageous, and would push it towards November if I wasn't sobbing under the covers. I don't do cold. People often ask me why I moved up north if I don't like the cold, and my answer is this: You will find a roaring fire here in the north at any given time. In the summer there are campfires, in the winter there are fireplaces, wood stoves and down comforters, down coats and down booties. We are warm here if we choose to be (Jerry notwithstanding). If I were to move down south, where the weather is constantly warm, I would be sitting outside by myself all the time while everyone else huddles in their Air Conditioning. No one goes outside in the summer in the south. They feel it is unbearably hot. I am happy in that type of heat, but I would be alone all the time. Here, Jerry is happiest when it is cold outside, and I can roast my toes in front of some type of fire, somewhere. It strikes a good balance for us. It's changing every day though. Some days it is definitely summer, others you can tell that the autumn chill is in the air, and summer is waning. This is the best part of living in the northeast - the change of seasons. Peaches are in season, and I have a date with Dan on Tuesday morning to pick up the peaches from the Amish at 7:30 or some ungodly hour like that. I think it will be worth getting up that early, just for the photo ops. Jerry is taking bets as to whether I actually get up or not. I think it will totally depend on the weather, and wether or not I am cold. Dan, if you don't see me by 7:45, go on ahead. I'll be burrowed in under the down comforter. Jerry won't let me turn on the heat.

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