Heating Up.

It's nearly that time of year when Dearly Beloved and I begin our good natured but deadly serious war of attrition. It happens every year but I'm disappointed to note that it might be starting a little early this year which is not to my tactical advantage. I'm hoping there will be a change in the atmosphere which will play into my hands so I have a weather eye out. It's a well known fact that Sun Tzu dedicated a whole chapter to it in his ancient Chinese book on tactics. This game of strategy is known the world over as the battle of the central heating. 

The problem is that Dearly Beloved gets much colder than I do; perhaps it's my extra layer of blubber. I have suggested that she does the house work with a little more vigour to warm herself up but for some reason she took offence. Her view is that there is no point in being cold when you have central heating and of course she is correct but I'm too tight to pay for it. Thereby the battle lines are drawn. No doubt in some households the heating is put on without a word of complaint or all parties are in agreement and the heating kicks in on December 1st regardless of the weather. In our house the respective front lines are drawn and the artillery in place ready and waiting for the opening shot.  

The first salvo is always fired by Dearly Beloved and is usually something like 
'it's getting dark in the evenings isn't it?' My response would be something similar to ' yes but it's only September darling.' It carries on like this for a couple of weeks with her saying it's getting cold and dark and me countering with shorts and T shirt wearing and sitting in the garden. After a while she brings out her heavy artillery or rather her jumpers and dressing gown. Under this terrible onslaught I have no option but to make a tactical withdrawal and fight a rearguard action by turning on the gas fire in the evening. By this time I'm retreating and that's when she uses her cavalry to deliver to a fatal blow to which I have no defence. Dearly Beloved gets up at 5 AM and even I have to admit that it's cold at that time of the morning so I'm left running for the hills as the heating goes on. The only action left to me, akin to spiking my guns, is to turn the heating off again as soon as she goes to bed in the evening. 

It's not a matter of if the heating goes on but when so I am always doomed to fail. My aim is to delay the inevitable for as long as I can and thereby pay those thieving energy companies as little as possible. My spring strategy is much more guerrilla than trench warfare. As soon as it's warm enough I start to chip away at the timing and temperature settings until Dearly Beloved says
'have you turned the heating off?' There may be a little skirmish or two over adjustments but by this time I'm on the home straight with warm spring days
just around the corner. This year looks like it's going to be particularly bad for me. She's already started and it's only bloody August.