Well, well, well. It's almost time to turn on the heat.
We have already hit that part of the year when we have the heat on in the car in the morning, and the air conditioning comes on in the afternoon. The gas fireplace has been on more than once. Extra blankets are on . . . and off . . . and back on . . . all night long.
It has already started snowing on Mount Washington. Parts of northern New York have seen snow flurries. And the trees, those usually-glorious autumn trees, are taking their sweet time changing colors, most of them going directly from green to brown due to a summer of drought. Windy days send chills straight through from our ribs to our spines.
Fall is here; winter is coming.
So far, the heat inside the apartment has stayed off, a clear advantage to my current living situation. In my old townhouses, which were my last two respective places of living, the heat would've already been blasting uselessly through the ancient, drafty walls and windows. One of my former places boasted a front room with rushes of frigid air coming in through electrical outlets - a wind tunnel of wasted resources.
I'll fight it as long as I can, though. I'll continue to wear flip-flops even while I have on my jeans and sweater and possibly top it with a down vest. I have a few more days of kayaking left in me, too. I'm ready, for sure, but I am by no means happy about it.
