I spent several years of my childhood in Green River, Wyoming, in the cold desert at least three hours any way from anything pretty. The temperatures dropped to negative 40 degrees in the winter-time. Snow fell infrequently but stayed on the ground, and the blustery wind created blizzards and ice frozen in mid-air. My sister and I looked like the kid from A Christmas Story every time we left the house, bundled up tightly. The wood stove in our basement was a Godsend. We had three months of summer, skipped fall and spring, and endured nine months of winter.

I’ve been in the Houston area for about ten years now. So help me, I love the crazy hot summers and don’t mind that “winter” is very short. I am incredibly cold-natured, so this is a good spot for me.

That is, until I moved into my current house. Our 1920s boarding house turned duplex is perhaps the most poorly insulated dwelling on the planet. The double-paned windows might as well be non-existent because the glass acts as some sort of odd conductor of cold. We live on the first floor, where the pier-and-beam foundation lets in drafts I’ve not felt anywhere else.

To top it off, we have no central heat. We have one window unit in the living room that allegedly has a heating function. Otherwise, it’s space heaters, which are not meant to heat entire rooms. Don’t worry, we have two fireplaces—that are both boarded up and non-functional.

Last night when we got home, our bedroom was 41 degrees. Inside the house. It was 35 degrees outside. This is the second winter in a row that it’s snowed in Houston, a city that snows almost never. I’m pretty sure global warming has conspired against us. It doesn’t really matter, though, because for about three months it will be cold in here, regardless of the temperature outside.

So here’s how we survive:

·       One hour prior to going to bed, we turn the electric blanket to high, the ceiling fan on low (circulating backwards), and the space heater to high.
·       Upon sleep, the electric blanket goes to 7, fleece pajamas and possibly socks are employed, and arms remain under the covers.
·       The morning is the worst, because the rest of the house is what my husband calls a barren tundra. Because I work at home until at least noon, I do my work under the electric blanket. He, on the other hand, has to get up. First, he turns on the one window unit with heat. Then he closes the bathroom door and turns on the space heater in there. Then he goes to the couch, turns on another electric blanket and space heater, and wears a snuggie to eat breakfast. Yes, a snuggie. If you’re judging us for owning and routinely using a snuggie, we’re too cold to care.
·       At night when I work late at my desk in the dining room, I have one heater pointed directly at my feet and another at my back. I also drink hot chocolate and periodically do short bursts of exercises to keep warm.

You would think Wyoming winters would have prepared me for this, but not so. We are experiencing very cold temperatures now, even in February in Houston. My latest solution for fighting the cold? Wearing fingerless gloves while typing. True story.

One Response to “Surviving winter”

1. Katie Says:
   February 22nd, 2010 at 7:53 pm

   I LOVED this, because I live in a former convent in California, and our house has gotten down to 45 degrees. I only survive with a space heater. (And fingerless gloves!!)

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