The Oddly Cold Rooms in My House

Anyone who has read Tales From The Burning Prairie recently knows that we get our share of cold, nasty weather here in Oklahoma. We have two rooms in the House that seem to be bringing some of that cold indoors. While the rest of the House is warm and cozy, our den and master bedroom feel like meat lockers. I am literally freezing my rump roast off as I sit here writing this. When I walked into the den yesterday, I swore I felt a breeze. After looking in vain for an open or maybe broken window or door, I concluded that our sliding glass door has all the weather-blocking power of a sieve. Last night I decided to do something, anything, about it. Since there was absolutely no chance of me going out into the cold, dark night to apply weather-stripping, I did the next best thing-I hung blankets over the glass. The entire back wall of my house is like a big window. We replaced all the old plate glass with tempered glass when Monkey began toddling around the house, but we’ve never replaced the patio door in the den. There are drapes over it but those are about as effective as wet tissue paper, so I hung the layer of blankets on top of the drapes. The temperature in here has risen maybe six degrees, but we’ve added a festive, nomad’s tent ambiance to the room. Maybe the flue is open, but that will have to wait until someone with longer arms comes home from work tonight.

I’m starting to think that the cold in the bedroom has a more otherworldly cause. The master bedroom is on the North-ish side of the house, but so is Monkey’s room and it’s warm as can be. The windows are shut, the vent is open, it’s just freezing in there. So I put flannel sheets and two thermal blankets on the bed. We have to leave the door shut and locked most of the day, because of our toddler infestation. (They’re cute, but they get into everything!) But even with the door open it stays cold, even in the summer. Could be the kitchen ghost got tired of hanging out in the kitchen (and who could blame him?) and has increased his range. Not that I believe in ghosts. Or drafty windows.