...I've Got My Love To Keep Me Warm.

This past week reminded me why we were once a race of nomadic people. As it dipped below zero for several days in a row, Ron, Atticus, and I huddled for warmth in the "hot pockets" we have created to make us comfortable in the relatively drafty, open space of Chestnut House. For those of you who don't know, this house, like the loft we lived in before, has no central heating system.

Had we been as smart as our ancestors, we would have folded our tents, herded our buffalo, and headed South at the first sign of Autumn. Since we haven't gotten around to training Atticus in the art of Buffalo herding, we decided to stay put behind our brick and mortar edifice and haunch down against the impending winter.

Winter has made us full-fledged members of an elite group of pioneers, proving our prairie stock by staying put while Nature told us to get out, that she didn't want us here, to go away...see you in the Spring. Work and social commitments have made our disappearance out of the question.

There are always ways to cope, and the three of us have become clever at attaining something approaching comfort here.

Ron puts his day's outfit under the heated blanket the night before, so his clothes are warmed before he dresses. He tried the microwave to achieve the same goal, but I stopped him with a gentle reminder about the deadly combination of zippers, rivets, and microwaves. Atticus has made a nest out of a pile of hundreds of clean socks dumped on a couch in the living room. When we go to retrieve a pair to wear, Atticus protects his fort like a crazed beaver. The look he shoots us as we try to reduce his collection is itself enough to melt ice.

There are perks to having no heat. If your dish soap is frozen solid, you don't have to do the dishes. If your sewing room is too cold to work in, you can put off impending projects in favor of your own health and well-being, and instead snuggle under an ancient quilt watching t.v. all night.

We've accepted gracious invitations all season based on one fact alone - heat. Every gallery, theatre, club and residence we go to has one common luxury - heat. "The art wasn't my taste, but it was sure nice and warm in there." "That band sucked, but what about that central heating - unbelievable!"

We are not just surviving, but thriving in this weather. Our Vodka stays the perfect serving temperature, our ice cubes don't melt and water down our beverages, and Atticus looks rather dapper in his full-length Sherpa parka.

Continue to read the blog...soon enough I'll be complaining about Summer.

Until next week-

Jon (and Ron and Atticus)