It was 11am Christmas morning.
Chilly inside the house downstairs. I was wearing a hoodie, even.
Chilly in the hammock in the shady backyard.
The backyard is always shady in our new digs, have I mentioned that yet?
<blissful sigh of happiness>
Then I went out the front door and got blasted with a world full of sunshine and it was HOT. Probably 85+ degrees. Not totally roasting, but definitely must warmer than it’s been lately, and with all the humidity, it felt pretty toasty. Perfect beach weather.
The old house was never like that. Never, never, ever. When you walked outside the front door, it was never, ever hotter than it was inside. Most of the time, it was shocking how much cooler it was outside than in. There were 2 weeks in January where it came in handy, but 2 weeks out of 52 is not a good ratio.
…And that is why the perfect beach weather that I couldn’t feel in our front room was pretty much my favorite Christmas present of 2017. Goodness, I love love love our new (older, smaller, falling apart-er) place.
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