Anybody remember the thermometer that we have in our bedroom so we know exactly how ridiculously, ludicrously, incredibly cold it is where we sleep in the winter? (Forty-seven degrees, to be precise.) Well, did you know thermometers are also fun so you can see exactly how ridiculously, ludicrously, incredibly hot it is too? Yes! Fun!
So how hot was it in our bedroom last night? Well, hot enough that I didn't even bother trying to sleep until 10:30 p.m. And then we were still lying there, wide awake and sweating, an hour later. Hot enough that I was draping a wet washcloth over my face. Hot enough that I got up out of bed and stood next to the bed to announce that I couldn't stand for any part of my body to touch anything anymore and OH MY GOD I WILL NEVER STOP SWEATING. Hot enough for A. to go all the way downstairs and get the floor fan from the living room so he wouldn't have to listen to me whine anymore.
To be specific, it was 85 degrees*. Which, OKAY, is not exactly surface-of-the-sun hot, but it's plenty hot enough to preclude sleep. The floor fan helped, even if the combination of it AND the window fan made it sound as if we were sleeping inside the engine of a particularly large airplane.
But don't worry! Cubby managed to make himself heard over the roaring when he wanted to eat at 1:30 a.m. And 5 a.m. And 5:45 a.m.
Incidentally, for those of you who were wondering, Cubby doesn't seem to mind the heat in the least. He appears to thrive in tropical conditions. Too bad our house is only tropical for about three weeks a year. Three long, long, hellish weeks. Boo.
* It was still 81 degrees when we woke up this morning. Refreshing.
9 comments:
"... get the floor fan from the living room so he wouldn't have to listen to me whine anymore ... made it sound as if we were sleeping inside the engine of a particularly large airplane."
I can't help thinking the noise may have been as important as the relief it provided you.
Word verification: panee -- a single piece of glasse in youre windowe
Ugh. I feel your pain. At 9 last night it was still 96ยบ
A. grew up there too , so he is also acclimated to the horrible, hot, humid, hellacious, heathenistic conditions you are now living through. Sorry, I would go sell something and by a room air conditioner. Even if what I had to sell was me. Beth
word verification 'redilly'
burping after eating a dill pickle
Just wait until you hit menopause. YOU WILL HAVE AN A/C, even if you only use it once a year.
Remember that long diatribe I gave you yesterday about how cool I keep my house? I forgot to mention I WORK IN AN OVEN. No kidding, my office is OFTEN 80-85 degrees every day from May through September. (It's a cinderblock building with west facing windows -- hey, probably a lot like Blackrock.) It's cruel and unusual punishment and probably violates OSHA standards, but at least it keeps the meetings short because nobody wants to be in my building. Anyway, it's the variation from home to office that KILLS me, much like your transition from winter to summer at Blackrock.
My great-grandmother once told me how they survived in that kind of weather all year round before there was air-conditioning: fans, open all the windows (and if you have screens, take them off because that blocks 1/2 the wind) and sitting outside as much as possible.
My late FIL swore by this:
Heap ice onto a plate. A block of ice is best (but where do you get a block of ice nowadays?). Position plate in FRONT of fan, so air blows directly over ice. Air will be MUCH cooler, he swore. I never tried it, but it does make a little sense. This was one of his many "I grew up on a farm on the prairies and this was how we survived" stories.
Couldn't hurt to give it a try....
==lennie==
I'll assume that you had a heap of humidity to accompany this 85 degree heat.
LOVELY.
love lennie's idea.....just another story in the 'tales of blackrock' to add to Cubby's storybook life. Beth
word verification 'mullings'
the crud left when you scrape your mind off
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