May 4th, 2008

Light My Fire

We have reached the end of our winter wood provisions. If you can believe that.

I am freezing.

My husband tells me that 68 degrees Fahrenheit is temperate for most people, even if it is rainy and raw.

The liar.

I want climate control. I want warmth. I want fire. I want a crazy caveman to cater to my whims. Give me fire.

“Let’s burn the furniture,” I begged my husband this evening before bed.

“It’s quite comfortable in here,” he replied.

Have I mentioned that he’s a liar?

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