Out of Ideas, So I'll Talk About the Weather

I can sit here, with my eyes closed and I'm half aware, half asleep. Even with my eyes shut, the computer screen is bright enough to light up the inside of my eyes. I see pinkish white. The whir of the cooling fans and the dog's breathing are constant. Then I hear sounds I haven't heard of in a good while, people walking down the street, talking. I have my windows open and these things drift in.

Summer's coming.

The cold I've always been aware of. I had to tolerate, fight and deal with it. My hands and feet were always the first to grow cold and they said; “We're here and we're cold! We're here and we're cold! Don't you ignore us..we're COLD dammit!” It's very much like having a burn on your arm, the throbbing won't let you forget. It gets tiring and annoying. Much like acquaintance who keeps repeating the same stories to you but you wished they'd leave. Dull and slightly painful company. But tonight a change, the veins are popping out on the back of my hand, instead of ducking as deep as they could when cold.

And now I'm enjoying this little respite, with the softer sounds of the late night floating in.

One of the reasons I hated winter was due to growing up with a crappy heating system. We had an old oil burner, forced hot air system in our house that, I swear, was 4% efficient. I wasn't alone in that estimation, both my grandmothers agreed, our house was raw and cool in the winter. That kept the two of them away during most of the winter, much to my Dad's contentment.

My brother and I had this competition, if the heat came on, we both would dart to the living room air register to cuddle up against it and get nicely toasted. Yes, it sounds like we were homeless on a sidewalk heating grate. But, it was the best register as it had the least distance from the furnace and was hotter for it. It was well located too. I could peer over the arm of the couch and still see the TV screen while I was being bathed in hot air.

Eventually, real spring would arrive and that warmed the house through and through. It even made our upstairs bedrooms tolerable enough to actually spend time in them when awake. When sleeping, you aren't aware of how cold it is, once you pile on enough blankets.

To this day, most people stare at me strangely when I say that my house has no insulation. They look as if I said “I'm Jesus.” And again, I have to explain the history of this neighborhood. This whole plat was built in 1950 when heating oil was about 20 cents a gallon. Why insulate when you could keep your thermostat on 80 all winter and be dismissive about the heating bill, as it was so cheap.

So when spring arrived, it was a relief.

Behavior doesn't change much. As a kid, on warm days and nights, I'd yank every window open to get that wonderful air and heat in. I enjoyed the sounds I'd hear ambling in as I lay in my bed at bedtime.

What do you think I did today? I opened all my windows and until a few minutes ago, I was snoozing in this chair by the window, being lit up by a computer screen and hearing neighbors chat.