Brrrrr

As anyone in the western part of North America knows (and probably some other places, but I don't really follow the weather the way my dad does, so I don't know ), it's been damn cold lately. There was snow in San Francisco a couple days ago, and we were happy we had our winter coats when we went up to Salem to see family last weekend. Last month, when we had a bizarre heat wave (during which I boasted on this very blog about wearing flip-flops in February -- I should know better than to tempt fate), we decided to turn off the pilot light on our wall heater. We were paying $15-20 a month just to keep the pilot light going, and so far, we'd been able to put on sweaters ala Jimmy Carter and cope with the cold.

Well, yesterday when we got back from Oregon, the apartment was really cold. After bundling up in our wool and fleece, we baked some bread and hung out in the kitchen for most of the evening. (Full disclosure, we actually escaped the apartment briefly and warmed ourselves with a pint at Cato's before that.) Using the oven was enough to maintain our resolve not to relight the furnace. But this morning when I woke up, I could see my breath. This is a very poorly insulated apartment, and although it was warmer in here than outside, it wasn't by much. Luckily, this evening it's been a bit warmer, and we've been able to resist relighting the pilot light. Anne says it feels like camping, with us in our fleece pants. (And to think I used to complain to my parents because they kept the thermostat at 68. I guess it makes a difference when you're the one paying the utility bill.) I'm hoping we can hold out for just a couple more weeks, but I don't know if I'll last if I'm seeing my breath every morning. I figure if I have to scrape ice off the bathroom mirror, it's time to use the heat. Let's hope it doesn't come to that.