The sweet smell of kerosene in the morning...

And here you thought that kerosene was just one of those things from "the days of old". Nope, kerosene is alive, well, and available from self-service pumps at every gas station in the great nation of Japan. I remember thinking this summer when we were oriented on our many heating options for the coming winter that I was beyond kerosene heaters, too evolved to heat my apartment by burning oil. After all, kerosene was once used in lamps as a slightly more dangerous alternative to WHALE BLUBBER. Heat my apartment with something that replaced whale blubber and is now one of the main components of jet fuel? I think I'll pass, thanks.

That was before.
That was before I realized that air-conditioners-cum-heaters are expensive.
That was before I realized that space heaters don't actually heat very much space.
That was before I realized that a kotatsu (heated coffee table) was not designed with Norwegian genetics in mind.
That was before I had to sleep on my heated rug because my bed just wouldn't warm up.
That was before I woke up yesterday morning to my indoor thermometer reading forty-six degrees Fahrenheit.

That was before.

I am now the proud owner of my very own, song playing, timer functioning, child-proofing, oxygen level checking kerosene heater. And maybe it is just the congestion, but all I can smell is heat, delicious, toe-warming heat. I hadn't realized how debilitating the cold was until my apartment crept back up to 62 F, and I suddenly wanted to do dishes, tidy things, and generally go places in my apartment that weren't within arm's reach of my heated rug. I was warm.

And I will be warm again tomorrow morning when I wake up...

Whale blubber, schmale blubber.

Update 01/12: My kerosene heater is kind enough to give me two warnings when it is getting low on fuel. First, it plays "Twinkle Twinkle Little Star" and flashes a green light. The second warning flashes a red light to the tune of "Mary Had a Little Lamb". Who knew that burning oil could be so cute?