It’s Comfort Time

There is something so comforting about the tick of the heat vent coming alive on a cold, dark January— when winter decides to come back with a vengeance after a short period of North Carolina springlike weather.

Ahhhh… heat spews out sumptuous warmth from the HVAC system set at a perfect 68 degrees Fahrenheit —which allows you to wear season appropriate attire without gasping for breath as I do in my parents home because my father enjoys wearing shorts all year round.

I think a purposeful attempt to show off his George Hamiltonesque perma-tanned legs. Just joking, Poppy.

Don’t get me wrong. I like to be warm, but not smothered Tahitian style in the middle of winter.

Hold the Pina Colada. We’ll leave that for the dog days of August.

Give me a warm cup of coffee or hot ginger tea instead.

Admittedly, I run warmer than most due to my aged-40-something hormones. I ask my people to adhere to my temperature requirements.

My poor husband who is tallish and has 0% body fat, walks around shivering with a hoodie pulled tightly overhead. But alas, he doesn’t rebel.

Bless him.

He just grabs a blanket and carries on.

But I digress, back to the sound of warm air blowing through the duct like a lullaby sung to a child in their bed.

Snug as a bug.

Hypnotic.

I say, “Hand me a quilt, some Netflix and pass the Swiss Miss!”

Who is with me?!

Wishing you all cozy nights and warm toes this winter.

Alison Paul Klakowicz

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