If you’re keeping score, mark last night as another night with a dream you’d have thought was induced by tizanidine, if I was still taking it.

I was in the UK, staying with Jethro and Emily. I’m not sure if it was a house or a flat, but I’m sure it was quite old. It was a quaint and comfortable place with 2 dogs and several cats (No, Emily, I did not just call you a cat lady). I was cold, so I attempted to raise the temperature on the thermostat. This was a device installed on the wall so that the top was about eye level and about the size of a pillow. While it had visible signs of wear that would date it to be at least 30-40 years old, it had a digital display and buttons retrofitted into it. Three buttons, in fact: Up (+), Down (-), and Mode (M). When I approached it, it displayed “62.5°F” (Yes, Fahrenheit). I pressed the Up button, and it incremented by .5°F until it reached 64.0°F, where it then jumped to 98.5°F. I pressed the Down button, but saw it jumped right back down into the 60s.

Emily and Jethro both sat on the sofa laughing. Emily suggested I try the Mode button. I did so, and it turned off. Another press, and the lights dimmed. Another press, and music started playing – the soundtrack from Kinky Boots, a movie (based on a true story about a shoemaker from Northampton) I highly recommend if you haven’t seen it. Another press, the lights returned. Another press, and the temperature flashed, indicating I was back in temperature control mode. Pressing Up and Down however yielded the same results. Finally, through fits of uncontrollable laughter at my lack of understanding of English technology, she cackled “Just add nutmeg! Don’t you know only a cat can fine-tune the temperature the way you want it from inside?”

Cat-Operated Thermostat

Cat-Operated Thermostat: Just Add Nutmeg

I inspected the device further, and there was a micro grater above the controls, and on the side of the device was a cutout, showing a hollow interior with a carpeted bottom. Inside on the front were several lights and buttons with no labels; I had no clue what they were for. It reminded me of the Wizard’s secret control room behind the curtain on The Wizard of Oz. Emily repeated that I should add nutmeg, and handed me a whole seed. I grated it using the micro grater, and a black cat came running and jumped through the opening on the side. The cat made some huffing noises, then purred and jumped around.

“Tell it what you want,” Emily said. So I said, “Sixty-nine and a half degrees, please.”  Several beeps later, the display read exactly as I had requested, and the cat jumped back down to the floor and made a figure eight between my legs, spreading brown dust on my jeans.

Then, I woke up. With “Yes Sir I Can Boogie” from Kinky Boots stuck in my head. 0_o

Now, I’ll admit, I don’t actually have any idea if thermostats are similar at all in the UK to those here in the States, but I’ll look that up later. I am pretty sure, however, they probably aren’t as big as this was, aren’t powered by cats, and don’t require nutmeg. Also - Celsius.

I also know that after waking up thinking about nutmeg, I can’t get the idea of baking a quiche out of my head, and I have plenty of eggs. So, as soon as this is published, I’m off to cook!