Greetings from Frozen Montana. We have two seasons, Winter and July. It is almost cold enough to start telling “how cold is it” jokes.


Way back in August or September,  DH climbed across the bed and took the fan out of the window. While completing this task, he pulled down the curtains.

How Cold is It?

 
These were not heavy drape type things, but the did direct the winter cold rolling off the window glass, down into the heat vent. There, the frigid air would mix with the heat being blown into the room.


I complain every night about seeing my reflection in the window glass. I go on and on about the cold night air rolling over me like smoke chasing the pretty girl at the campfire.


I tell DH it is his fault. In the telling the event grows bigger. Bigger because, in his world, the next step involved taking the fallen curtains and pressing them into a crack at the low edge of the window.


When I confront him, he says he didn’t do it. No amount of showing will make him waver. He insists he didn’t do it.


Well, he DID do it. Last night is was -7 ° the last time I looked. The cold blanketed me. 


Yesterday,  I measured the width and ordered curtains and a magnetic blind. By Saturday, I should be sleeping warm.

Maybe, someday he will come clean and own his part in the cold cold draft. Til then this is Being Married.


Till next time, don’t touch anything sharp.