Christmas in July!


I’m writing this post on the hottest day of the year. Literally. I’ve been visiting out West for the past three summers, and there is some truth to the “dry heat.” Here on the East Coast, the humidity is a killer. At a 7 a.m. book signing this morning, it was too hot for Leia, my corgi mascot, to help out. She had to stay safe in the air-conditioned kitchen.

But what about the opposite? What about the middle of the winter doldrums?And I’m not talking about the cheery time between Thanksgiving and Christmas when everyone is warmed by fairy dust and cocoa. I mean the cold, dark nothing between New Years and Spring, when the sun sets before we get home from work and the frost claims all life.

Which is worse? The question reminds me of that Robert Frost poem, and it’s an argument my husband and I have every year in the middle of winter and the middle of summer. Without the modern conveniences of heating or air conditioning, which is worse: the heat of summer or the cold of winter?

“You can always put on an extra layer,” my husband reminds me.

“You can always jump into water,” I say.

“You can overheat to death,” he says.

“Just like you can freeze.”

“Build a fire,” he says.

“What if you don’t have wood?” I asked. “And our townhome doesn’t have a fireplace,” I remind him.

A year and a half ago, I was stuck for 12 hours in a terrible traffic jam caused by snow. It was a terrible experience made worse by the cold and darkness of winter. I still shudder to think about it. But a few summers prior, my air conditioner broke during a heat wave, and I spent the days dousing myself with water and sitting under a tree in the back yard. If I had to relive the experience, I’d always choose sitting under a shady tree in 100-degree weather.

So what do you think? Which is worse? The heat of summer, or the old of winter? Leave a comment below, then fill out the RaffleCopter for a chance to win.

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