Hot and Cold

The oldies were always cold. I tried to be considerate but I could not handle the house at 80-plus degrees. That's probably how Hangdog became attached to the Unabomber costume -- he wasn't going to rob a bank; he was just trying to keep his ears warm.

I am always hot. Blame it on menopause or hormones run amok. I have slept on our patio with a damp sheet over me. If I'm not driving, I am probably the woman you see hanging her head out the window like a dog. Come to think of it, I've done that even when I am driving, I just try very hard to save it for stop signs.

The husband and I had criss-crossing schedules before I left for NY. One of our conversations (him at home; me in my hotel room) was about the temperature in the house. Oops, I forgot to tell him that I turned off the heat. April in Indiana can easily go from 80 degrees to 30 degrees. He was freezing.

I figure we get a few weeks in the spring and a few weeks in the fall where I don't need A/C or Heat. I throw open the windows and I love it, even when it messes with my allergies. This does not make me Al Gore. If I need to fire up a fireplace or the furnace, I'll do it.

Relationships are like this too. One person is hot when the other is cold. The trick is to keep your mouth shut and wait for the times when you both are comfortable.