I live down south, where the two of us run the a/c nearly all year round.
I never need to wear more than a sweatshirt to keep warm.
I don’t own a wool coat, knitted hat or heavy boots. I love fresh air & sunshine; My sibling lives way up north, where it’s frigid & wet most of the time. He constantly begs me to come visit him for the holidays. He insists that a pale white Christmas is ideal. I finally gave in & obtained a plane ticket this past January. I packed a suitcase with our warmest clothes. As soon as the two of us stepped outside the airport terminal, I knew I’d made a crucial mistake. I immediately wanted to go back home. The temperature was twenty-eight degrees. While the snow was particularly beautiful, I didn’t love our wet feet. I also kept slipping & sliding on the icy pavement & tugging a wheeled suitcase through the slush was difficult. The people I was with and I then sat in our sibling’s freezing frigid car for approximately 10 minutes waiting for the heating system to give enough warmth to melt the ice on the windshield. My sibling finally had to get out & chisel the ice away with a scraper, but despite the heating system blasting at maximum capacity during the drive to his house, I shivered the whole time. I couldn’t wait to get inside. However, our sibling likes to save currency whenever possible. He’d turned his thermostat way down before heading to the airport. His home was so frigid that I could see our breath. I kept our coat on & stood directly in front of a heating system vent, trying to thaw out. I was thankful for the heated blanket on the bed. While our sibling wanted to take me skiing, sledding & go for walks in the snow, I just wanted to hide inside & stay as close as possible to his furnace. Whenever he wasn’t paying attention, I raised the thermostat setting.
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