We sleep with the windows open, something we did only in the winter in Abu Dhabi.
Sometimes I wake in the middle of the night and a summer breeze brushes my face and I am cold. I can hardly believe it. This morning I peeled back our cotton bedspread and added a blanket over the sheet. At the foot of the bed I put a quilt, just in case the blanket doesn't do the trick.
In my effort to "re-bond" with my home, this morning I decided to work in the garden. The air was chilly and damp. We've had many days of clouds and rain. I put on a sweater, an old gray cashmere pullover that was my mother's. It felt nice. I remember now that it took me a while to find the right balance, vis a vis clothing, in Abu Dhabi's heat: to wear clothes that didn't make me even hotter while also being mostly covered.
Next I stepped into a pair of green rubber boots I keep in the garage for gardening. Suddenly I felt like Beatrix Potter's Mr. McGregor, when he finds Peter Rabbit has eaten all his lettuce: my right sock was stuck to the bottom of the boot. A chipmunk - or another animal from the woods - must have found a stray piece of candy, dropped by one of my children, and hid it in my boot for the coming winter.