What a Man’s Gotta Do
It is 5Â° outside, so cut me some slack. I feel justified in doing whatever it takes to stay warm — and that includes my feet.
Even in this small room not 10 feet from the wood stove, my toes are cold. I’d swear, if they weren’t orange-red and yellow, that the licking flames were animated, upside-down icicyles. So I have taken the matter of cold feet into my own hands, there being no one else here to tell me I can’t do it. (And trust me: she WOULD!)
I have hung several heavy shirts along the lintels of each door, and in addition, across one, now hangs the white cafÃ© curtains on the tension rod from the dining room window.
The new decorations keep more of the heat here where I live and less from the rest of the house that’s empty for the next 36 hours.
Yes, it looks a bit of a sight–like a guy lives here alone–but a man’s got to do a man’s got to do.
I feel warmer already.