Cold house.

Despite living in California, I am {almost} perpetually cold. I do tend to the anemic & low-blood-pressure side of things but I like to think that I would still be chilly even if I were less like a feeble Victorian Tiny Tim character. That all being said, my hunch is that because I've always lived in older homes {think: Victorian to 1920s} and because the coldest it gets here in the winter is maybe a dastardly foray into the 40s...our insulation has always been lacking. There is no need for really well secured windows or double-paned anything because our low temperatures aren't of the variety that can kill and way back when...well, way back when these houses were built it was a long time ago, so there...actually the floors were most definitely not covered in carpeting and the windows were but a pane of glass which meant for drafts galore and cold feet unless socks are involved. The basements and attics held little to no insulation so parts of the house could be really frosty.
I've learned to live with my problem though I loathe the sensation of being cold. It irks me to no end when I'm trying to read in bed at night but my arms and face are cold to to the touch. I know how to layer my clothing and I pretty much always have a blanket with me...like Linus. Hot baths work wonders as well. The only thing that gets really frustrating, I suppose, is when you've sat down to enjoy Sunday morning papers and news and your coffee is already cold because of the ambient home temperature. Sigh.
Alas, we don't live such a draconian life as I fear I've outlined. The central heating works quite fine and hasn't even been turned on yet since it's been so mild. We have one of those flip a switch fireplace things, too, that I practically idolize all winter. But the first story of our house is brick which tends to hold the cold {if you will} quite well and I'm just feeling crabby about it {and my already-cold-coffee}. That's all ☺.
xoxo, natty ♥