Brrrr

We have now lived in Norway for almost a year, and in the past 50 weeks, there is a sentence I haven't uttered once. I have never ever in our time here complained, "I'm too hot!" I used to complain about being too hot on a regular basis in the U.S. I can be a touch overdramatic at times, and I might, once upon a time, have even shrieked that I was melting, or something to that effect. When I was in grad school in Iowa City, my crappy apartment didn't have air conditioning, and on one particularly balmy evening (106 Fahrenheit at 10 PM) I may have even had a Scarlett O'Hara-esque tantrum, shaking my sweaty fist at the sky and yelling, "As God as my witness, I'll never live without central air again!" Well, we have no air conditioning here and I have never needed it (although there have been a few times this summer that I would have loved to have fired up the furnace). We're on our way out the door to see a movie and I'm wearing jeans and a sweater. Not a lightweight, short-sleeved summer sweater, but a heavy cable-knit garment. It's August and I'm wearing wool! (In case anyone was concerned that Kevin no longer gets to hear my constant bitching and moaning about being too hot, never fear, I still bitch and moan to him, now I just complain, "I'm too cold!")