Shelby and I have completely different temperature states of being. A hundred degrees in the mancave shade, with the fan blowing from the side door to the open garage door, makes me happy.

Shelbs likes it in the low seventies. Walking into the house with my heat acclimated body is like walking into a refrigerator. But I ain't complaining, it's way prettier than my old dive in Tennessee.

There are individual A/C vents scattered around, in the bathrooms and into the bedrooms. I figured out how to warm my room up at night, by closing the vent. I keep it closed all the time, with my door shut.

Last night I froze my ass off! I looked up at the vent and saw that it was half hanging off the ceiling and blowing cold air directly down at me on my bed.

We need to put some filler in that hole, and screw it back on. In the meantime I could shove an old teeshirt into the thing...