Flannel Sheets

I have flannel sheets on my bed. It's winter.

Those two statements are supposed to go together like cookies and milk. But they don't right now.

We're having a Santa Ana, so the last couple days have been getting to 80 degrees. The winds have been blowing pretty good at work. At home, though, when I take my dog Abby outside, the air is still, the stars are out, and there's a soft rustling of the palm trees high up above the houses.

We don't have air conditioning. Only ceiling fans. After moving the piano, we turned on all the fans and headed off to bed. Abby didn't mind, but I couldn't get to sleep. The sheets were too warm, my jammies too restrictive, the fan too noticeable after the long silence, with its rhythmic "ahbm, ahbm" sound, so I got up to write this--on paper.

I don't want to change to regular sheets at 11:00 at night, but I need the sleep. I'll try again with the flannel. Maybe it'll work this time. It is winter, after all.