Saturday, January 31, 2009
Thought all you people living through a properly cold winter (and taking beautiful pictures thereof) would appreciate the humour in the UK media's prediction that tomorrow night temperatures here will 'plummet' (!) to minus 4C!
I know! You BARBECUE in that in Ohio, right?!!
Anyway, Mrs H, ever the loving and dutiful mother, today bought our two girlies a fluffy hot waterbottle each. Such excitement!
These things (in their primitive, unfluffy, versions) were standard issue in my UK 70s childhood.
It was cold there.
Central Heating was a concept unknown; we had an open fire in the front room and a stinky paraffin heater in the back, and that was it. Rooms and heating sources would never be used simultaneously. Basically, you shut the door on your room of choice for the evening and you Stayed In There. If you had to go to the toilet (best avoided), you ran upstairs (ascent of The Eiger), did your business and ran back down again quick as you could to rejoin humanity and re-shut the door, repositioning the crudely-fashioned-by-auntie sausage-dog draught excluder swiftish, or there'd be trouble.
At bedtime you cleaned your teeth in 30 seconds, sluiced the coldest tapwater you'd ever tasted down your throat and dived under the blankets; and you clung to that hot waterbottle for dearest life until the bed, or at least 10 square inches of it, became (allegedly) warm.
Meanwhile, as you struggled to sleep, frost spread like streptococchi across your bedroom window. On the inside.
Pah! Young people today!
White Stripes - 'In The Cold, Cold Night' (2003)