The Heat, She Will Not Stop
It’s a bazillion degrees outside again today. It’s hot. It’s hawwwtt. It’s officially BA-ZOILING. It’s the kind of heat where toweling off after a cold shower immediately covers you in that thin layer of sweat you were looking to rid yourself of. It’s the kind of heat where popsicles melt and drip all over your hands and fall off the popsicle stick and into your lap, making you whine loudly. It’s the kind of heat where you press your back up against the wall of the subway station, in denial of the layers of grime you are leaning on, just because it feels so cool on your back and your neck. It’s the kind of heat where you lie naked in bed at night, sweating through the sheets, comforter tossed aside, pillows thrown on the floor, staring up at the ceiling, shaking your fists at your bad luck for living in a heat-seeking attic apartment! I. CAN’T. TAKE IT ANYMORE!
My garden is dying. The dahlias have burnt. The hostas are limp and wilting. Those things whose name I don’t know, they’re parched. The crab grass has more than just crept in. It has taken over. I would love to stop this all from happening. I would love nothing more than to get in there and weed out the bad stuff and tend to the good stuff. I’d like to take popsicle sticks and twine and set it up so that the morning glories actually climb up to the verandah all dainty and pretty. But you know what? It’s too goddamn hot to be mucking about in the sun. I’ll get sunstroke! Every morning I run out of the house and hope my garden doesn’t see me trying to sneak by. I’m sure the bleeding hearts are shooting me dirty looks. I’m sure the tiger lilies have put a hit out on my life. I’m sure the morning glories are fantasizing about choking me. There’s something quite “Little Shop of Horrors” about a neglected garden. Seriously, I promise you plants, as soon as the heat wave breaks! Just hang in until then!
But it’s never ending. My old window-unit air conditioner works overtime. This morning at 6am I hear skreeeeegh! Kung kung kung kung! Sputtter… Fuzzzzzzzzzz. Whhhhhrrrrrrrr. I leap from my bed, wrenched from sleep. ‘It’s falling out of the window!’ I think, ‘It’s going to go through the porch roof! It’s going to land on my GARDEN! Save the GARDEN!’ I grab the power dial and turn the A/C off. It has been running for almost sixteen hours without interruption. It shudders a bit, exhausted, but doesn’t move in the window frame. I quickly open the neighbouring window to let a supposed existing ‘breeze’ into the room, and then I fall back into bed, hoping for another hour of sleep. And then it occurs to me. I don’t think the air conditioner was actually ever falling out the window. I think it was just dying. That sound? Was the sound of coils breaking, fans giving up hope. It was the sound of entropy winning the battle. This thought distresses me so much that I can’t even test out the theory after my morning shower. I’m just going to leave the air conditioner to rest a bit before I attempt to turn it on again.
What am I going to do without the air conditioner?? The humidex puts the temperature into the forties at mid-day! There is no tangible cooling off overnight! No breeze comes in through the window! Folks, I’m serious: I live in a sauna. In a steamhouse! In Dante’s Raging Inferno! We have had more 30C+ days in this month of June than we had all summer long last year. This isn’t the dog days of summer down on the Louisiana bayou, okay? I live in CANADA. The extreme temperatures are supposed to (and often do,) skew the other way!
My sunburn is peeling too. Which makes my back both sweaty and itchy. It’s a lovely combination. You should try it sometime. Yeah, yeah, I can hear you. “Ever heard of a little thing called sunscreen?” Oh, shut up! The weekend before last I was thrilled that the hot weather had arrived. I was frolicking in the sun with reckless abandon. I overdid it. I admit it. I am a foolish little imp. But I’ve reached my limit now. When I can no longer find a cool corner in my home to escape the heat, I’ve officially learned my be-careful-what-you-wish-for lesson. Rain! Please! Now!
Okay, but not like this. Surely Mother Nature can find me a happy medium.
My garden is dying. The dahlias have burnt. The hostas are limp and wilting. Those things whose name I don’t know, they’re parched. The crab grass has more than just crept in. It has taken over. I would love to stop this all from happening. I would love nothing more than to get in there and weed out the bad stuff and tend to the good stuff. I’d like to take popsicle sticks and twine and set it up so that the morning glories actually climb up to the verandah all dainty and pretty. But you know what? It’s too goddamn hot to be mucking about in the sun. I’ll get sunstroke! Every morning I run out of the house and hope my garden doesn’t see me trying to sneak by. I’m sure the bleeding hearts are shooting me dirty looks. I’m sure the tiger lilies have put a hit out on my life. I’m sure the morning glories are fantasizing about choking me. There’s something quite “Little Shop of Horrors” about a neglected garden. Seriously, I promise you plants, as soon as the heat wave breaks! Just hang in until then!
But it’s never ending. My old window-unit air conditioner works overtime. This morning at 6am I hear skreeeeegh! Kung kung kung kung! Sputtter… Fuzzzzzzzzzz. Whhhhhrrrrrrrr. I leap from my bed, wrenched from sleep. ‘It’s falling out of the window!’ I think, ‘It’s going to go through the porch roof! It’s going to land on my GARDEN! Save the GARDEN!’ I grab the power dial and turn the A/C off. It has been running for almost sixteen hours without interruption. It shudders a bit, exhausted, but doesn’t move in the window frame. I quickly open the neighbouring window to let a supposed existing ‘breeze’ into the room, and then I fall back into bed, hoping for another hour of sleep. And then it occurs to me. I don’t think the air conditioner was actually ever falling out the window. I think it was just dying. That sound? Was the sound of coils breaking, fans giving up hope. It was the sound of entropy winning the battle. This thought distresses me so much that I can’t even test out the theory after my morning shower. I’m just going to leave the air conditioner to rest a bit before I attempt to turn it on again.
What am I going to do without the air conditioner?? The humidex puts the temperature into the forties at mid-day! There is no tangible cooling off overnight! No breeze comes in through the window! Folks, I’m serious: I live in a sauna. In a steamhouse! In Dante’s Raging Inferno! We have had more 30C+ days in this month of June than we had all summer long last year. This isn’t the dog days of summer down on the Louisiana bayou, okay? I live in CANADA. The extreme temperatures are supposed to (and often do,) skew the other way!
My sunburn is peeling too. Which makes my back both sweaty and itchy. It’s a lovely combination. You should try it sometime. Yeah, yeah, I can hear you. “Ever heard of a little thing called sunscreen?” Oh, shut up! The weekend before last I was thrilled that the hot weather had arrived. I was frolicking in the sun with reckless abandon. I overdid it. I admit it. I am a foolish little imp. But I’ve reached my limit now. When I can no longer find a cool corner in my home to escape the heat, I’ve officially learned my be-careful-what-you-wish-for lesson. Rain! Please! Now!
Okay, but not like this. Surely Mother Nature can find me a happy medium.
posted by nerdifer at 5:00 p.m.
2 Comments:
Update! It still works! The air conditioner still works! Oh, sweet manufacturer of cool air! I think he deserves a name now.
Any suggestions?
Ned's taken! ;)
Chill-tron it is!
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