I went to sleep a little later than usual last night – around 4:30 AM. Helaine used to complain if I went too late. Now she relishes the snore free hours before I arrive.
It was chilly last night. The temperature was well down in the 40s. Still, there were windows open all around the house and the fresh air was invigorating.
I lifted the blanket and comforter and slid into bed. Oh no. They’re back!
Sometime after I made the bed Tuesday, Helaine stripped it and replaced our regular sheets with flannel ones.
Don’t get me wrong. I like flannel sheets. They are much less a shock to my system than the crisp but cold sheets that have been on all spring and summer. It’s just, putting flannel sheets on the bed is an acknowledgment that the cold weather is approaching… approaching rapidly.
“Eight months,” said Helaine as we discussed the sheets early this afternoon (morning for me, as I live on Hawaiian time).
I unfurled my fingers, one at a time. September, October, November, December, January. One hand down. February, March, April. Oh my God. That’s eight. She’s right¹.
Some day, when you consider why people retire to Florida, Arizona or Southern California, please remember these two words: flannel sheets. People want to retire where they don’t need them.
If I close my eyes, I can already see the first heating bill of the season.
¹- As the Pope is to matters of faith, Helaine is infallible in all domestic matters. This matter cannot be disputed. She just is.
Geoff, I know you probably don’t want to hear this, but I like the cold. It’s invigerating. I hate the hot, humid weather simply because everything you wear, sticks to you. The sunburn, the rashes, the sweating. Summer for me was a horror. Come on fall, I embrace you.