I live in a cold, drafty old house. Not a period home, let’s be clear, just an old one. Loft and wall insulation haven’t made one bit of difference. When it gets warm in the summer, it stays so even at night (+28C last June for example) and when it gets cold in winter... well... good luck in crashing above +18C. The heating has been on continuously for the past eight weeks, and not once has the temperature risen above +20C. Today I stayed in bed, the only pleasant place to be, especially if complemented by a hot water bottle and entertained by a stack of things to read.
It’s a new week tomorrow and, at least for me, the first working day of the new year. I cannot even tell whether I am looking forward to it or not; all I know is that there is no hiding any longer. My new big project will be underway for real. And it feels worrying but oh so fab too.