I’m living in fear of snow this week. Last years snow drifts, while beautiful and temporarily fun to play in before the ice cold creeps into your bones, has left me willing and wishing the weather man will say we’ve escaped with a sprinkling of the white stuff. When I was five, I longed for snow. At 35, not so much. Indoors I stay. Indoors I do my best to keep warm. But I’m also living in fear of the oil running out before I can top up the tank. Which got me thinking about how the cold seeps into our house on days like these. Practical as ever, I have a few tips for keeping the house warm without leaving the heat on all day.
I’ll admit, as we drive home from work through the country roads on what has been our new route since only last year, I feel a swell of panic and excitement any time I see a For Sale sign nailed to a fence and sticking out through the dew laden grass. I know I’ve spoken to you before about moving house, how we moved house with a toddler, but it still feels raw. It took me quite a while to stop browsing and mentally decorating bungalows on housing websites. And I’m still entrenched in the newspapers about property prices and mortgage conditions. As I look at our house, decorated with not one, but two Christmas trees, as the lights flicker and glimmer and A plays with the music Christmas tree that plays We Wish You a Merry Christmas, I can not forget how hard we fought to get here. How lucky we are to have a home to fill with all of this Christmas tinsel. Because moving home is not easy. This was our third (and final, please God) house move. It was not easy the first time either.