Thursday, March 25, 2010

The Heat is On

How often do I start blog entries with the phrase "growing up..."?

A lot, I'd venture.

Anyway, growing up *laughing*, my father was notorious for freezing the rest of the family out of house and home1.

If there was a window to be opened, he opened it. If there was a choice between air conditioning and heat, he went for the air. Traveling by car with him - even in the height of summer - saw us all bundled up in sweaters while he perspired.

As he's gotten older though, his body chemistry, like many elderly folks, has changed significantly. No longer is his house or his car refrigerator cold. In fact, it's exactly the opposite.

Walking into his house, you get the sense that he's not opened a window for months - the air is so still. But he also now jacks up the heat in the winter and ignores the air conditioning in the summer so that the temperature hovers near 80 at all times.

Now, perhaps I'm my father's daughter, or perhaps it's just that, in Wyoming, we really like our fresh air, but I really like A) having a window open even in the dead of winter and B) not being hot. I would much rather have cool air circulating at all times and layer clothing than feel enclosed, stifled.

I don't do well sleeping in a bed with another person who generates a lot of heat. Even alone I sleep cocooned under a pile of blankets nude or nearly so with the window open and the fan going2.

So, the other night, in a futile effort to sleep in my father's stifling hot apartment, I laid in his rock hard bed with a comforter and wool blanket angrily pushed to the foot and considered stripping off my pajamas3 in an attempt to get comfortable.

But honestly? The idea of laying naked in my dad's bed was so profoundly disturbing mentally, I decided I'd rather suffer.

Needless to say, I didn't sleep much or well.

1: Emotionally too but that's another story entirely. He's sort of the king of the silent treatment.

2: The fan is to create white noise. I live on 2 major bus routes. This corner can be a cacophony of city sounds.

3: I do own and wear them when I'm not at home.

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