I’ve taken to straddling our space heater.

I’ve lived in Michigan long enough that I have routines now.  In the dark dark Michigan morning:  I wake up. I lay in bed looking up.  I stand up.  I waddle over to our space heater.  I straddle our space heater and let warm infuse me from all directions.  I venture beyond our space heater and into the day.

I wish my space heater had a saddle on top.  In fact, more things should have saddles.  I love the craftsmanship embedded in a great saddle, but I’ve never taken to the large animals that are under them.  Heaving a heavy saddle over a horse sounds great, save for the horse.  In fourth grade I went to a week of horse camp with the Girl Scouts.  I was most interested in how cool I would look in my tall, leather riding boots, walking all over town and leaning nonchalantly on walls in public places, but once at camp those boots ended up materializing as chunky rubber overshoes.  I tested into the most beginner level of horses named Heineken, and he and I walked in slow, clockwise circles for five days.

Heaters always look like heaters, except when they look like other household appliances.  Who hasn’t let his or her fingers linger a little longer over the toaster on a cold morning?  I learned a tip from some Michigander friends – after cooking something in the oven, leave it open as it cools off – free heat.  Hot showers are an obvious good idea except if you have hair that’s equivalent to a shammy when it comes to retaining water.  A head in the midst of evaporation is as uncomfortable as those pants that are just a smidge too tight.  If you stay perfectly still you can convince yourself that everything is just fine.  Move the slightest bit and sirens go off.

Twenty-two wisdom-infusing years have passed since my special time with Heineken.  I just bought a new, fantastic pair of boots