Indoor Heating

It's cold outside.  Like maybe 30 degrees that feels like 25 (Husband says he apparently has to ask me if it's cold because I've told him one too many times that THIS is not cold).

One of the ladies just came in the door wanting to know that if, when I was in Japan, it was THIS cold.

I almost laughed at her.

Images popped into my head.

Images of my house there with no central heating (or air for that matter) even though it was winter from mid-October to mid-May.

The house where I had to sleep in triple layers cuddled up with my cat because I couldn't keep my kerosene heaters going throughout the night for fear of asphyxiation (and having to wander outside in blizzards to refill the tanks). 

The house where I had to put my shampoo and conditioner in the fridge so it wouldn't freeze.

The house where one time I got a cleaning bug in February and woke up to my wood floor and all of my appliances covered in a sheen of ice from the cleaning water that hadn't evaporated the night before.

The house where I'd wake up and the temperature on the indoor thermometer was -4 degrees.

The house where I had a heated table (kotatsu), heated carpet, and electric blanket going at the same time.

Don't even get me started on the snow I had to shovel.

Why then do I remember it so fondly?

I really don't know why. 

Maybe because every snow brought the rejoicing of another great skiing Saturday. 

Maybe because it was so depressing that had I not laughed about it, I might have gone crazy. 

Maybe because Grainne and Thanet would come sometimes and we would dance to Brittany in our long johns. 

Maybe it's because I had the awesomest collection of fleece socks I've ever seen.

Or maybe it's just because I was a polar bear in my former life.