Welcome, Cold
Well, there's no more avoiding the topic. In this part of the world it is officially cold. It was only ten days ago that I sunbathed naked(!) at kallbadhuset; only a week ago that I was sweating (without a jacket) while rushing to meet my brother at the Malmö train station; five days ago that my summer-loving brother was praising the mild Swedish weather. But sometime over the weekend, possibly while Erik and I lay in a potato gratin induced coma, the weather changed from pleasantly cool to where-the-hell-are-my-gloves cold.
And I'm fine with it, mostly. To me, cold weather means a glorious decrease in guilt. The heavy, fatty, comfort foods that I secretly crave year-round are indulged in without care (note the potato gratin reference above). Opting out of activities in favor of a book, a cup of tea, and a blanket might be considered seasonal instead of anti-social. And putting off that bothersome cover letter for just one more day is acceptable when you've got so many fall birthdays, not to mention Christmas, that demand your shopping attention.
The chill in the air also has a major downside. You see, it's revealed something about our precious apartment that we'd rather not face. Namely that it's damn cold. The old windows that kept out the summer heat don't perform quite so remarkably against autumn winds. Our old-fashioned radiators seem to be just for show, piping out lukewarm whispers of "we work, but we suck."
So I began last night to think fondly of our maligned old apartment. Being right above the drying room in the laundry, our bednook had heated floors and the ugly newfangled radiators made the room so hot we could sleep with the window cracked open. Before I could get too falsely nostalgic, though, Erik reassured me that he would look into draining our new/old radiators. I was all, "Huh? Yeah okay." Good thing one of us knows about fixing things. My solution would have been to stock up on blankets and instant hot chocolate and pretend, in between whining, that our pathetic shivers were Dickensian.
And I'm fine with it, mostly. To me, cold weather means a glorious decrease in guilt. The heavy, fatty, comfort foods that I secretly crave year-round are indulged in without care (note the potato gratin reference above). Opting out of activities in favor of a book, a cup of tea, and a blanket might be considered seasonal instead of anti-social. And putting off that bothersome cover letter for just one more day is acceptable when you've got so many fall birthdays, not to mention Christmas, that demand your shopping attention.
The chill in the air also has a major downside. You see, it's revealed something about our precious apartment that we'd rather not face. Namely that it's damn cold. The old windows that kept out the summer heat don't perform quite so remarkably against autumn winds. Our old-fashioned radiators seem to be just for show, piping out lukewarm whispers of "we work, but we suck."
So I began last night to think fondly of our maligned old apartment. Being right above the drying room in the laundry, our bednook had heated floors and the ugly newfangled radiators made the room so hot we could sleep with the window cracked open. Before I could get too falsely nostalgic, though, Erik reassured me that he would look into draining our new/old radiators. I was all, "Huh? Yeah okay." Good thing one of us knows about fixing things. My solution would have been to stock up on blankets and instant hot chocolate and pretend, in between whining, that our pathetic shivers were Dickensian.
posted by Amylou at 3:07 PM
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