Wednesday, December 30, 2009


I have to admit something. Winter is my favorite season.

There is something so calm and peaceful about this time of year, when nature chooses to lay down its head, blissfully shut its eyes, and go to sleep.

My house is so much calmer and quieter when it's cold outside. We have a window unit in our living room to cool the entire house in the summer. Whenever spring rolls around, and we have to turn on the a/c for the first time in many weeks, the din is unbelievable. Because we not only have to turn on the window unit, but use a system of fans to funnel all the air around a corner, into the hallway, and into our room. It takes at least 3 fans. The white noise becomes deafening. Then, when the cats start shedding, we also have a round air purifier that sounds like our own personal jet engine with congestion. By the time all of those things have been up and running for about 10 minutes, I have a trickle of blood starting to run out of each of my ears, my vision is vibrating, David is fanning my pale face and suggesting I lay down and rest a bit.

Ok, that last part was a bit of an exaggeration, but you get the picture.

So, during winter time, I get the blessed peace of quiet. I no longer have the feeling of impending doom due to the white noise in my house being so loud that I wouldn't be able to hear it if a plane fell out of the sky on top of my house Donnie Dark-O style. I can now hear every last syllable of the neighbor's conversation, delivered at the top of their lungs in Tex-Mex with a drunken lisp.

I also love that my house is finally a comfortable temperature in a completely natural way. No more worries about the house burning down due to the motor of a box fan burning out. Oh yeah, you heard me. David and I had the delight of welcoming a dozen sweaty firemen into our tiny little house last September, thinking there was a fire inside the walls because of ancient electrical wiring. They were there with their little heat-seeking devices for an hour and a half before they figured out that the source of the smoke was not the wiring or our demonic air conditioner, but one of the fans in our impromptu wind funnel. Go us.

But the best thing about winter time is hands-down the ability to wear over-sized, tunic-length sweatshirts. It's hard to feel fat or uncomfortable in a nice, soft, baggy sweatshirt. I love winter.

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