I'm keeping my radiator at 72 degrees when I'm home, and recognize that most people will find that excessive. But the warmth of my home represents more than temperature itself. I'm reminded of the last time I lived in this part of the country, in the servants quarters of a stone mansion that was heated just enough for the pipes not to freeze. The cold was paralyzing, and I spent most of my time at home in bed.
Heat feels like a triumph. I can't get enough of it. I move my rocking chair closer to the vent.