Baffle by the door
I remember a time that i thought my parents were obsessed with heat. We use to get told off for so much as thinking about opening the door in the winter. My parents had stuffed things that they would put by the base of doors to stop draughts, and there was a heavy curtain that hung over the back door in the winter. I admit I was not terribly respectful of their efforts. As it turns out, they were both frugal and good conservationists.
In last year's apartment, the heat was controlled by the superintendent. Through the winter, we would often have to have the windows open to reduce the obsessive heat. Strangely, the heat would surge at about 3:00 am and we would throw the blankets off, sleep naked and sweat heavily. This winter the other unit in our house controls the heat. Their unit is better insulated, our landlord's badly installed windows have drafts all around them and the living-room is poorly insulated. I wear down hut booties at home in order to retain sensation in my toes, and at times have resorted to setting the oven on a low heat and leaving the door open. I'm amazed the plants in the living-room do not seem to be suffering, as i remember plants freezing to death every winter in my childhood bedroom. It makes me wonder just how cold that frugal childhood home was. Next winter, I tell you, like real grown-ups we are going to live somewhere where we control the heat. Enough of this nonsense.
Anyway, this morning, i rolled a towel length wise and tightly tucked it against the bottom of the door. It's official, I have become my parents.
In last year's apartment, the heat was controlled by the superintendent. Through the winter, we would often have to have the windows open to reduce the obsessive heat. Strangely, the heat would surge at about 3:00 am and we would throw the blankets off, sleep naked and sweat heavily. This winter the other unit in our house controls the heat. Their unit is better insulated, our landlord's badly installed windows have drafts all around them and the living-room is poorly insulated. I wear down hut booties at home in order to retain sensation in my toes, and at times have resorted to setting the oven on a low heat and leaving the door open. I'm amazed the plants in the living-room do not seem to be suffering, as i remember plants freezing to death every winter in my childhood bedroom. It makes me wonder just how cold that frugal childhood home was. Next winter, I tell you, like real grown-ups we are going to live somewhere where we control the heat. Enough of this nonsense.
Anyway, this morning, i rolled a towel length wise and tightly tucked it against the bottom of the door. It's official, I have become my parents.