I can say with almost complete certainty that the temperature in my house is lower than the temperature in your house. Right now. And during the day. And during the middle of the night.

Just trust me.

For various reasons that aren’t all that interesting, we keep the thermostat pretty low during the winter and everyone has learned to adjust. We wear socks and sweats. My friend Tena gave me one of those bags of corn you heat up in the microwave. Now, I loved that because I wanted to test that new microwave we’d gotten from unclutterer. And this year we even bought a space heater for the bathroom because getting out of the shower had taken a turn for the brutal and uncivilized.

I seem to be the only person in the house even remotely negatively affected by the temperature so I generally try to wear some sleeves and get over myself, but we’re right in the heart of that truly cold time of year when, well, it’s cold. Whiney fussy sissy cold. And there aren’t enough socks in this whole darn house.

So I’ve been spending time looking through pictures of this past summer and making tentative-at-best plans for fun things we might do THIS summer. And I think of bubbles and swimming and watermelon and bare feet and waterslides and mowing the grass and popsicles.

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And I’m already warmer.

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