Home Sweat Home
The house looks really dirty to me—which I hate!—but it’s been too hot to vacuum. Too hot to sweep. The cut-off point for doing housework is 90 degrees and it was 92 in the house yesterday and 101 outside. Brutal. Thank you, black shingled roof and west-facing antique windows that do not open.
Luckily, my friend P and I escaped to Hagg Lake. She volunteered to drive since she wanted to bring one of her dogs. Risking rudeness, I asked if her car had A/C.* She hesitated for a moment and said that yes her car has A/C.
Alrighty, then. Out to Hagg Lake—more than an hour away—we go and P’s A/C isn’t really doing the trick. I suspected as much from her ungung-ho assurance about her car's A/C. It was bearable—just. Not her fault. At one point, we whizzed past a bank thermometer than said 108 degrees (somewhere near Hillsboro). Holy shite! I don't know if any air conditioner can cope with that. Anyway, it made me appreciate the lake all the more.
We hiked around the perimeter, periodically stopping to take a dip. The water was a little muddy, but it was the perfect temperature. I haven't gone swimming in a lake for about a decade, and I'd forgotten how heavenly it is. Plus, I got the chance to wear my fabulous new swim suit for the first time and it exceeded all expectations! Even wearing it wet underneath a dress wasn’t uncomfortable.
When I got home in the late afternoon, the house was like a sweat lodge except for the bedroom, which has a tiny window-unit air conditioner. That’s where I found B splayed out on the bed in his underpants.
I took a shower and then realized that there was some laundry that needed to be put away. Fantastic! A task that could be completed in the bedroom. Never in my life have I found putting laundry away so enjoyable. Shortly thereafter, we met up with some friends for dinner, and I insisted that we take our car, not theirs. I was not going to take any more chances with weak-ass or absent A/C.
That is why I will shortly be fleeing the premises with my laptop to work in the most arctic of coffee shops I can find.
*A couple of weeks ago a friend and I drove out to Hood River to pick cherries. He refused to turn on the A/C, because he claims it affects how his car (a Miata) accelerates, but I know for a fact it’s because the A/C uses a teensy bit more gas and my friend is incredibly and irksomely cheap. If he refused to turn on the A/C for environmental reasons, I could respect that, but it's not that. It's him being a cheap-ass. And it's not like he's got financial difficulties either; he's a doctor. A doctor and a freakin' miser!
Luckily, my friend P and I escaped to Hagg Lake. She volunteered to drive since she wanted to bring one of her dogs. Risking rudeness, I asked if her car had A/C.* She hesitated for a moment and said that yes her car has A/C.
Alrighty, then. Out to Hagg Lake—more than an hour away—we go and P’s A/C isn’t really doing the trick. I suspected as much from her ungung-ho assurance about her car's A/C. It was bearable—just. Not her fault. At one point, we whizzed past a bank thermometer than said 108 degrees (somewhere near Hillsboro). Holy shite! I don't know if any air conditioner can cope with that. Anyway, it made me appreciate the lake all the more.
We hiked around the perimeter, periodically stopping to take a dip. The water was a little muddy, but it was the perfect temperature. I haven't gone swimming in a lake for about a decade, and I'd forgotten how heavenly it is. Plus, I got the chance to wear my fabulous new swim suit for the first time and it exceeded all expectations! Even wearing it wet underneath a dress wasn’t uncomfortable.
When I got home in the late afternoon, the house was like a sweat lodge except for the bedroom, which has a tiny window-unit air conditioner. That’s where I found B splayed out on the bed in his underpants.
I took a shower and then realized that there was some laundry that needed to be put away. Fantastic! A task that could be completed in the bedroom. Never in my life have I found putting laundry away so enjoyable. Shortly thereafter, we met up with some friends for dinner, and I insisted that we take our car, not theirs. I was not going to take any more chances with weak-ass or absent A/C.
That is why I will shortly be fleeing the premises with my laptop to work in the most arctic of coffee shops I can find.
*A couple of weeks ago a friend and I drove out to Hood River to pick cherries. He refused to turn on the A/C, because he claims it affects how his car (a Miata) accelerates, but I know for a fact it’s because the A/C uses a teensy bit more gas and my friend is incredibly and irksomely cheap. If he refused to turn on the A/C for environmental reasons, I could respect that, but it's not that. It's him being a cheap-ass. And it's not like he's got financial difficulties either; he's a doctor. A doctor and a freakin' miser!
posted by Rozanne at 9:00 AM
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