I was born and raised in the deep south, and have remained in the same area my whole life. I am accustomed to the dire heat and humidity, and I rely on my air conditioner and dehumidifier for the majority of the year. I am used to paying super high electric bills every month, and I continually battle complications with mold and mildew. Until last winter, I had only ever seen snow on TV. The area where I live has only gotten a light dusting of frost a couple of times, and I don’t own any type of gas furnace. My older sister, took a job way up north and has lived there for the last couple of years. She invited me to spend a couple of weeks with her in December. I figured that by December, the winter weather would have warmed up to a fair level, and so I agreed. As soon as I stepped off the aircraft, I knew I’d made a bad mistake. By the time I made it to my sister’s car, I was irritated. The air was so chilly that my eyeballs hurt, and there was so much snow that my feet, ankles and knees were wet. Although my sister had the heating system blasting in the vehicle for the entire ride, I couldn’t get hot enough. Once we arrived at her house, I insisted that she crank up the thermostat. I found a chair situated directly under a heating vent and refused to leave it. I had no interest in snowmobiling, snowshoeing, or sightseeing. I watched from inside the temperature controlled home as my sister shoveled her driveway and sidewalks, sprinkled rock salt everywhere and scraped ice off her windshield. I wore numerous layers of clothes, wrapped in a blanket, and never ventured more than a few steps from the gas furnace.