Daughterhouse-Five

Mom is visiting for a couple of weeks so our house is a balmy seventy degrees. I know this doesn't meet her usual standards. At her house, the heat must be high enough that you not only feel it, but you see the heat waves writhing through the air,. There's a toasty aroma of baking furniture. And it has a physical thickness that it muffles sound waves.
I don't like to be cold, so I can sympathize with her about putting up with Bellingham weather. It is always damp, and rarely sunny. The climate is much more pleasant in the house.
Mom is used to walking around barefoot when she is at home. I got her a pair of fuzzy slippers so I hope they help without making her feel confined. Keeping her bundled and cozy is my biggest hostess responsibility.
Fortunately, my car has built in seat warmers so we are planning a few excursions today. Library for sure. She and I read entirely different types of fiction so the dozens of books I have laying around don't entertain her for long. I completely understand that. She like romances. I can't remember the last book I read that had kissing in it. Unless you count “Slaughterhouse-Five.”
Having company also means that I must make some attempt at cooking. Too bad for everyone involved. Mom isn't a fussy eater, but once you sit people around a table, expectations must be met.
Eating, reading, keeping warm. Sounds about right.
Nancy Sherer