I am firmly convinced that chilly is colder than cold. Cold hisses across your skin; chilly gets into your bones. Cold means a parka in the snow, and thin watery sunlight; chilly means trying to type with mittens in your office, and sniffles, and a deadline.
California has chilly. Of all the places I've lived*, northern California does chilly in the biggest way.
*eg Boston
(From a comment elsewhere.)
California has chilly. Of all the places I've lived*, northern California does chilly in the biggest way.
*eg Boston
(From a comment elsewhere.)
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The exception would be the couple of years I spent in the northernmost part of NY (St. Lawrence River Valley) living alone in a house with nothing but wood heat-- a house that also had inadequate insulation because it was basically a board and batten cabin. I had a full-time job then, too-- and let me tell you, no matter how expertly I banked my woodfires (and I got quite good at it) that house was quite chilly each evening. One day I did a poor job and the fires went out. When I got home, my kitchen thermometer read 18 degrees F. By some miracle, the pipes did not freeze, I still don't know how.
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(Maybe the pipes had enough heatmass that they got cold more slowly than the air. Whatever the case, glad they didn't freeze!)
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But the storm had blown a hole in the roof, and snow had come in and covered the bed. It was unmelted because the room was so cold and the quilts insulated it from the heat of the girls' bodies, but it kept the girls warm.