for it, since my rhetoric question:
Is it hot in here or is it me? is regularly met with a shrug of the shoulders of my certainly better half.
My vain self will not admit nearing menopause since I feel the age of matronly changes will do me any good, it will push me finally over the edge and afterwards there it will be:
I am getting old!
But it's only physically I am telling myself. My mind churns out ideas as it never has before and the days could not be long enough to let me realize all my ideas.
But I digress! Back to the heat: I discovered after 10 years of living in our house that there is a fan hidden in our steaming attic. A great big thing living in the wall to the side of the house. I had seen it, but the existence of the central air unit up there as well had me under the impression it was defunct....What a mistake. I discovered a turning knob in my husband's closet, a space where I rarely reach into and since then I go upstairs with guilty pleasure, open the latch to the trap door to the magic attic and let that fan blow. A cool breeze descends downstairs and I guess the dog enjoys it as well since he lies on the marble tile floor in the hall and lets his ears flap. I would not mind joining him there!
After a short while my husband would go up for one reason or other and suddenly the humming would stop and the fan turned off...
Well, up I'll go eventually and turn it on again and the discussion follows like this:
Me: Honey, please leave the fan running, it makes such a difference downstairs.
Him: There is no breeze downstairs. Con Edison will love you, lets turn it off.
Me: Just for a while now, ok?
Him: The children will wake up, its so loud, I know your sense of hearing is not the strongest. Let's set a time now! How about ten minutes?
Me: It's 10:30 in the morning, they certainly could wake up.....
His phone rings and he is off to his home office, and I hear the kids traipsing around upstairs. Fan or no fan: They have woken up!
So we compromise for a while. Later I go upstairs to bring in laundry up and to feel a little relief in my air conditioned bedroom and to my dismay I realize it's not nearly as cool as I expected. Looking up the thermostat I see a whooping 77 degrees. Windows open, there is no breeze whatsoever.
My husband promises the evening will bring cooler air and just leaving the windows open will cool it down enough to sleep quietly.
Enough air condition already.
At bedtime I cannot sleep, I turn, stick my legs and other body parts out, toss to the other side. It's not helping. Out I go, close all the windows at 11:45 PM and switch on the air condition. My husband apparently sleeps soundly through all the commotion.
Down to 74 degrees I feel the relaxing cool air caressing my face, cooling my raging hormones and eventually I drift off.
My husband knows little of feeling the heat, he is resistant to cold as well and proudly
proclaims himself unaffected by natures extremes.
I love on winter days to have my freezing fingers warmed by his forever warm hands.
But the summer heat is different. Nothing can make me feel so good as the cooling breeze of a fan...
Until autumns walks softly on falling leaves I will be in need for it's assistance.
Final note: I explained my hormonal imbalance to my husband and my dependency on cool air for my sanity. Now he tolerates the fan use a little longer, perhaps for fear of further female outbursts...
Image by V.Zlotkowski and as indicated.