Role Reversal......

I couldn't come up with anything better than that boring title. Sorry.

When Hubby and I first married, I was always cold. We have central heat, but we mostly rely on a wood burning stove to produce heat, at least for the downstairs. I like wood heat, even if it IS hard to regulate (more on that in a moment). It's just so warm. And back when we used to go load our own wood, it warmed us twice.

Hubby was NEVER cold. He ran quite a few degrees warmer than I, and it was rare that we met in the middle.

Over the course of our marriage, however, Hubby has gone from his late 40's to early 60's (boy does THAT look different than it used to!), and partly as a result of his age and partly due to diabetes, his feet are always cold.

I, on the other hand, have gone from my mid 30's to early 50's, and every woman reading this probably knows what that means.

I ain't hogging the covers anymore.

It's the time of year I hate, when we go somewhere in the car in the morning and have to turn on the heater full blast. When we come home in the afternoon, however, we have to run the air conditioner. All the glorious seasons of the year, wrapped up neatly in a single day.

It's also the time of year when Hubby insists we turn off the ceiling fans in our bedroom. I like the fans, and not just for their cooling effect. I like the low hum (even though I don't consider myself a fan of white noise), and I like the movement of air the fans create.

I miss those fans. It's not that I'm burning up, because I still lean somewhat toward the cold natured end of the spectrum.

I am usually up a few minutes later than Hubby, most often because I have delayed writing my blog until he's ready to go upstairs, then I have to scramble to do it. If I'm going to be very much later, Hubby reminds me to put more wood in the stove before I come to bed.

And I usually forget.

I like being warm, mind you, but the wood stove sometimes puts out more heat than I can tolerate. And he wants me to put MORE wood in it? Sheesh. I almost always regret it the next morning, when it's quite chilly downstairs and the fire has gone out completely. But when I'm sitting in my recliner and beads of sweat are standing out on my forehead, it's hard to make myself put wood in the heater.

And I never know whether to call it a "heater" or a "stove." I guess "heater" is more appropriate, since it's not used for cooking. In that case, we need to come up with another name for that dusty appliance in the kitchen.