The battle is over.

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And I retain my thermostat bragging rights for another year.


I wobbled yesterday as the temperature in the house got down to a "balmy" 57 degrees.  The cat followed me from room to room.  He wanted me to sit down so he could get on my lap and warm up (Andi, maybe this is the way to get Max on your lap?)


I was wearing three shirts and double lined warm up pants.  I ran the dishwasher.  I drank coffee.          I took a drive just so I could turn the heat on in the car.


I almost wrote on the Weekly Gratitude thread that I was thankful that Southwestern Egg Rolls must be cooked in a 450 degree oven.  Oh and oops!!!  I forgot to turn the oven off for about an hour after that.


Lancelot came home from work.  The sun went down.  The house got cold(er).


Finally, at about 8:30, he surrendered.  He went down and turned the heat on.  His only comment was that he did it for me.


Yeah...right.  He doesn't need to know that I actually turned the heat on for two minutes but smelled that burning of the dust smell and turned it right back off again.  Doesn't count..I don't care what anybody says.  Does.not.count.


Story Continues
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