You know it's funny, I am almost 40 years old and I have never had an air conditioner that entire time, until one fateful (read: reeeeeeeeally BAD) summer three years ago. I snapped, and went out to buy a window model that I made Husbandly One install that night when he get home. I was so hot, so miserable, and when he finally had it installed and turned it on, I got on my knees and pulled up my t-shirt to its life giving, chemically based, cold. I was a happy girl. Not a very dignified girl, but a happy one none the less.
This summer, the weather has been strange and cool enough that I haven't thought about the air conditioner at all. Until now.
It is August 2nd, 8pm. It is still 34 degrees Celsius. I just cooked dinner. Then I did the dishes, plunging my arms up to the elbows in to steaming hot water. And I literally can not take this heat one minute longer.
Husbandly One just dragged the behemoth up from the basement, in a minute he'll have to set up the stepladder outside (our lvingroom is quite a distance off the ground) and get StepSon to come help. I have already done my part: locking the cat in to our bedroom so she doesn't escape while the window is wide open. (Hey, I do my share around here, too!) And within the half hour? My heat related suicidal thoughts will be but a memory...
(oh, and a major star of our dinner tonight? Green beans from my own backyard. I put the water on to boil so I could steam them, and then went out to the garden with a collander to collect them. From on the bush to on the plate took ten miuntes, and you really can't ask for fresher than that. Life is good.)