I haven't had this sheen of sweat over me since I was a kid and my parents wouldn't use the air conditioning unless it was 90 degrees in the house. I slept with half a sheet and a fan on a chair with my window wide open waiting for that magical hour of twilight when the temperature flirted with 72 degrees.
I love my crazy Victorian house, but it's my luck I moved on the hottest week in record in the Bay Area. How did I know? Today was literally unbearable, it was over 100 degrees. And there was no breeze and it was even hotter on the porch. There was no escape.
I was supposed to work on stories today -- I still have three to finish in the next couple weeks, but all I had energy to do was take a nap. My kitties passed out on the floor in front of my portable swamp cooler ( I bought it three years ago when my air conditioner broke.) I fill it up with ice and refrigerated water. I don't know if it makes a difference, but sitting right in front of it is bearable. That and my tiny wall unit air conditioner are the only cooling mechanisms in the house. Maybe we should spend more time downstairs?
The photo is by Jakub Mosur for the San Francisco Chronicle of three little kids trying to keep cool in San Jose.
No comments:
Post a Comment