I climbed into bed last night, glad to slide between and snuggle down into the warm blankets. I think my thermal windows are showing their age as there are terrible drafts the last couple of years, even when the weather is not as brutal as these past few days. I, too, am feeling my age or my blood is getting thinner as the constant cold, even within the house, seems invasive and intolerable to me. A trip to the basement or even the cellarway, which I close off to keep the kitchen warm, leaves me shivering. In the darkness, curled up beneath the covers and just before I shut my eyes, I listened to the various sounds in and around the still house. The wind was howling at 29 miles an hour according to the last forecast before I turned in. I believe it as I felt the house moving and the wind was rattling the metal rolling blinds with a vengeance. I had already heard thumps and thunks of unknown origin throughout the course of the evening and they continued after I went to bed. The wooden furniture was creaking or shifting and making occasional loud squeaky noises and after the lights were out, it was eerie, as if a ghost was wandering around in the other rooms. I listened to the washer running through its cycles since I ran another load of hot water shortly before I went to bed. I left all the taps open and dripping on each faucet and I still could hear the drip, drip, drip of the droplets hitting the stainless steel kitchen sink. It seemed the furnace barely shut off, only to rev up again, chugging and heaving as it pumped out more warm air into the house. Finally I quit analyzing the mysterious sounds and drifted off to sleep. It seemed mere minutes later the alarm started buzzing. I threw off the covers intending to run another load of water through the washer and let the hot water gush out all of the faucets to thwart any freezing issues, but as soon as I threw off the covers, sparks were everywhere with static electricity coming from the Sherpa wool blanket and following me as I shuffled over to the light switch. Sparks a ’plenty once again, and ouch … they hurt after shocking me first. I’ve tinkered and tweaked the furnace humidifier repeatedly over the last month or so. There is either water on the windows or the house is dry as a bone with no happy medium. My hands are so dry they are cracked and I have cuts on all my fingers so I can barely type. My big adventure outside this morning was preceded by finding frost on the inside of the steel door. I chipped it off with my fingernail and a paper towel, then had to deal with dislodging the ice off the outside furnace pipe where the condensation from the hot steam had frozen on the lip of the pipe. At least the car started up in the garage so I am thankful for small blessings. It seems the only salvation for dealing with such harsh weather is returning inside, shucking off your clothes and wrapping your frozen fingers around your favorite warm beverage. I saw this little saying and decided it was true and worth sharing with those, like me, who enjoy their cup of joe: Coffee is like a warm fireplace for the soul.