In which case, we wear thermals.

Tuesday:
The snow came down in soft, floating flakes all day long. A constant flow of white specks that would sparkle and glisten as a thin blanket covered everything in sight.
A mysterious burning smell in the living room led to the midnight surrender of our ancient heater. It gave up the ghost and went home to its maker, leaving us to wake in a much colder house, with frost on our breath and chilly toes on wooden floors.

Wednesday:
Jonny spent the day getting quotes from various companies, mourning the inevitable investment, and shivering on the couch between appointments. I came home in the late afternoon to pass the time under a blanket while my man wrapped up the deal. He took the time to stir up a little something just for me. The bright whistle of the kettle promised a mug of hot cocoa on the way.
Later that evening, cans of soup were heated and sourdough toast was buttered. Thermals and wool socks were donned. We slurped a late dinner while cuddled together in bed under a heap of blankets, laughing at our predicament, and watched this show on the laptop until bedtime. We took turns darting out into the hall to brave the cold toilet seat or to take a dish to the frozen kitchen sink. Even the furry one was invited to curl up on a cushion on the floor, bending the usual rule of 'people space only' in our sleeping area. Whether sensing the privilege or simply too cold to move, he did us the favor of keeping the collar-jingling and ear-flapping to a minimum all night.
A tiny space heater did the work of raising the temperature in that one room, and may I add, it performed remarkably well. So much so that I woke up sweating in the night, and flung off a layer or two.

Thursday:
The morning routine was rushed as warm layers were peeled off hesitantly and teeth were brushed with shaking hands. With us off to our jobs, the workmen endured the damp cellar under our house, working with frozen fingers and dripping red noses all the day through, trudging through the snow, backyard to front, and over again, to retrieve equipment from their trucks. That evening, a quick visit from a dear friend in the midst of the chaos and banging was a a real treat, and I'm so glad she stopped on her journey to see us and get the tour of our home, even as we marched through the rooms with our boots and jackets on. With no heat and no water, I'm sure I win the year's best hostess award. Jonny and I escaped to a restaurant for dinner and hoped to come home and open the door to that familiar rush of warm air, but the inside was still just slightly warmer than the outside. Hours later, long after the sun had set, and just before the snow flurries began again, the tools were packed up, the trucks drove away, our thermostat reading was steadily climbing, and the sinks were sputtering out hot water.

Friday:
After a night of snowstorms, every school district but mine was canceled for the day. I pulled myself out of bed again and thanked God for our Subaru. Our ducts are all cleaned. A brand spankin' new heating/cooling system and water heater are tucked cozy into their new home. Our savings account is emptied.

And all I can think about is the people who don't have warm homes this winter.