This Cold House

Old houses have their charms. They can also chill to the bone. In our first home we had a wood-burning stove from Vermont.  It kept us cozy even in a winter so frigid the back stoop light bulb shattered. It had the kind of storm windows they slapped on the outside with a few screws, no caulk and called it a day. As I noted previously, the builders used newspapers (1910) for mock insulation. The first winter in our current house, we had drafts which meteorologists would classify as "gales". The original windows were tall,  very thin and played optical tricks with sunlight. As if on cue, at our first multi-generational Thanksgiving, the furnace died. The individual who was supposed to repair it made a series of clanging noises in the basement and then informed the clan that a locking seal had been placed on it. This "yakster" then conjured up the bill, said they would fix it in a few days (!) and vanished like an apparition. Please note this was a very cold November. So, we had a Donner party type vote to choose: death by freezing or gas inhalation? We elected to break the seal, crack a window at the top of the back staircase and say small, ecumenical prayers prior to slumber. In the morning, I literally pinched myself before rising.