crazyscot

... or perhaps that should be "staying warm" strategies. Living in what passes for a wooden fridge at this time of year means you quickly learn a few tricks. I've spent most of this weekend wearing four or five layers in the house, and will often put on another, as well as my gloves, to go downstairs or to the loo.

Ah yes, the loo. The seat is... cold. 'Nuff said there. The air in here is so very dry that hand cream is essential. The moisture condenses all the way up the windows overnight and onto the curtains; judging by the mould on some of them, that's where it stays.

The window on our shower room doesn't close properly. There is a tradesman coming to look at it, but in the meantime we've stuffed an old towel into the gap as best we can. However it still means that whenever I go into there - even if only to wash my hands - I experience a blast which I can only describe as fresh and bracing, and is somewhat reminiscent of the washing facilities at outdoor activity centres in Scotland in the early spring.

This afternoon, being a snow day, I went to have a bath before the sun set and it got much colder. The bathroom has one of those old single-bar electric heaters - we have nick-named it the Eyebrow of Sauron - which helped take the edge off the chill. Nevertheless, there are still several distinct phases of existence with less-than-ideal transitions from one to the next. Going from "wearing five layers" to "in the bath, ahhh" necessarily involves an intermediate state of "egads, it's cold in here" even if one disrobes as one gets into the bath.

Whilst basking in the bath, I tried to not instinctively shiver every time the wind whistled through the trees. The bath water was steaming, and my breath condensing. I did shiver when reaching for the shampoo, which I had stupidly failed to place within arm's reach. Lesson learned!

For a few minutes I enjoyed sheer, unadulterated luxury. My back and shoulders were grateful for the break. However there was the next state transition to manage: going from "in the bath" to "wearing enough layers to keep the cold out", calling at "wet", "feck it's cold", "why didn't I leave the towels within reach", "that bathmat gets cold darn quickly when it gets wet" and all stations to Soggy. Something managed, though I can hardly describe it as mischief.

I slept in my woolly hat last night. Last night was the only night I didn't wake up cold. Coincidence? I think not. (I woke up clammy instead; more research is needed.)