Feel the Warmth

Originally uploaded by laundrylessons.

Our globally-warmed temperatures finally took the nose dive that should have happened weeks ago. I’d been hanging out in shorts and sandals almost convinced that if I bought a bag of sand I could persuade my family to forget about the beach this year. Today was the first day I’ve worn socks all fall and last night before bed I flicked the thermostat from AC to heat.

This morning my favorite fall smell woke me. It wasn’t crunching leaves or apple cider, but a slightly burnt smell. Like bread left in the toaster thirty seconds too long, turning it from sandy brown to dark nutmeg, the furnace pushed warm air for the first time all season, filling the house with burnt air. You know the smell. The one when you say, “Is the house on fire? Or is that just the heater?” So you walk around sticking your nose into the vents, making sure that the furnace is working. If not, then you start looking for smoke or wondering how soon a repair man can get to your house so you don’t freeze, because heck it is only 48 degrees.

That smell relaxes me more than the lavender lemongrass oil at a spa where I get an occasional (once, two years ago) massage. It sets off a signal in my brain that says, “Drink tea. Read a book. Wear slippers.” I feel bad for people in warm climates who never get to inhale the forced air that is filled with dust or army men or pencils that have fallen through the registers all summer long. I guess that stuff must be burning up somewhere, to produce that smell, but since the house has never caught on fire I don’t analyze what is happening in the duct system too long.

My laundry room has its own vent, partially obscured by a baseball and the swifter duster that the kids call the fluffer. I’ll be moving all that stuff out of the way because that little vent heats the laundry room to the point where it is so toasty that some mornings I come down to find all three cats, that don’t even like each other, nesting in the dirty clothes. I’m ready to nest too. Give me a good home project, a stack of books, a roaring fire. Bring on fall, God’s painted trees and apple crisp. I’m ready to reunite with my down comforter and wool sweaters. I want to eat soup and baked noodles. This is the best time of year.