Fleeting air-conditioning
I don't want to complain about the weather. Each day brings its own weather pattern and each weather pattern is for the good of the earth, even the hurricanes, tornadoes and earthquakes. No matter how uncomfortable, I try not to complain.
Sometimes, like right now, it is impossible. It is the middle of August. I expected heat. In fact hot August is here. I drink lots of water. I make certain the animals have access to fresh water and are in a cool place. Dear Reader, I reside in the South of the good ol' U. S. of A. I expect heat in the middle of August.
What I don't expect is the air conditioner to quit spreading its cooling atmosphere in my home. Ugh!
Thankfully, I have a job that is located in an air-conditioned building. I have been working late into the night lately. Oh, it’s not that I want to escape the heat and be a solid support for Old Man as he figures out what to do about the situation, its that I have THAT MUCH WORK! It never ends - the reports, the ordering, the typing the opening of business mail, and reading emails. It is very time-consuming. I didn't ask for additional paperwork at this time. It just happened to fall in my lap. Honest Abe. I wonder if there is space in the break room for a cot?
Yesterday was Saturday. I had no reason to be at work. There is no one there, anyway, but the air conditioner. I had opened all the mail, written all the reports, counted all the pennies in the drawer. I could not think of any reason to be there. It is the one time I was really, really sorry I had nothing to do at work. I worked so efficiently last week that it enabled my ability to stay home and help Old Man figure out what to do. He clearly needed help. The air conditioner died 2 days ago.
His plan was to bring in a portable air-conditioner until we could the old unit repaired. There was a Strong Young Man at the big box store who picked up with nonchalance the portable air conditioner we bought and placed it in the bed of the truck. Of course, for safety's sake he carried the unit the length of the bed to place it against the cab. Then, Strong Young Man helped to strap it down so the lightweight, ever so portable air conditioner would not fly out of the truck at the first wind.
Old Man and I rode home in blissful respite from the southern sun and its relentless heat. It was wonderful, it was a winter wonderland in our minds. Our happiness was cut short five minutes later as we pulled into our driveway. We knew we would have to get out in the heat to bring the unit into the house to set it up. The air-conditioner was portable, so there would be no problem getting it into the house. After all, Strong Young Man just set it up in the truck bed without breaking sweat. On the radio, a talk-show host was giving his opinion about world affairs and we decided his input into our decision of whom to vote for in the fall was indispensable. We stayed there five more minutes, then faced the reality of the weather de jour.
Well, Dear Readers, there was nothing portable about that thing! It was half the size of a refrigerator and felt just as heavy. Old Man climbed onto the bed (there was no more jumping onto the tailgate as in earlier years) and placed his hands on each side of the AC unit and heaved. The unit didn't leave the floor. He heaved again, nothing.
I stood by, my armpits watering the grass, praying for better results. Old Man snapped me out of my reverie by calling my name and insisting I climb into the back of the truck with him. How that would help, I wasn't sure. He revealed his plan. We were to get on each side of the AC, pick up in unison, then carry it to the tailgate, whereupon he would climb to the ground and we would gently drop the AC to the ground. It was difficult to carry that weight very far because beads of sweat blinded me.
The next problem to present itself was the set of steps leading up to the house. Old Man, without a dry spot on his clothing, took it in stride. With his barked orders we managed to heave and ho that thing up the steps, across the floor to its preplanned position.
This simple machine almost beat us when we looked at the directions to put it together. Yes, Dear Reader, they wanted us, who just put money in their pocket, to put the damn thing together. When it was completed, I had to mop the sweat-sopped floor. At least I did it in a cool room.
Sometimes, like right now, it is impossible. It is the middle of August. I expected heat. In fact hot August is here. I drink lots of water. I make certain the animals have access to fresh water and are in a cool place. Dear Reader, I reside in the South of the good ol' U. S. of A. I expect heat in the middle of August.
What I don't expect is the air conditioner to quit spreading its cooling atmosphere in my home. Ugh!
Thankfully, I have a job that is located in an air-conditioned building. I have been working late into the night lately. Oh, it’s not that I want to escape the heat and be a solid support for Old Man as he figures out what to do about the situation, its that I have THAT MUCH WORK! It never ends - the reports, the ordering, the typing the opening of business mail, and reading emails. It is very time-consuming. I didn't ask for additional paperwork at this time. It just happened to fall in my lap. Honest Abe. I wonder if there is space in the break room for a cot?
Yesterday was Saturday. I had no reason to be at work. There is no one there, anyway, but the air conditioner. I had opened all the mail, written all the reports, counted all the pennies in the drawer. I could not think of any reason to be there. It is the one time I was really, really sorry I had nothing to do at work. I worked so efficiently last week that it enabled my ability to stay home and help Old Man figure out what to do. He clearly needed help. The air conditioner died 2 days ago.
His plan was to bring in a portable air-conditioner until we could the old unit repaired. There was a Strong Young Man at the big box store who picked up with nonchalance the portable air conditioner we bought and placed it in the bed of the truck. Of course, for safety's sake he carried the unit the length of the bed to place it against the cab. Then, Strong Young Man helped to strap it down so the lightweight, ever so portable air conditioner would not fly out of the truck at the first wind.
Old Man and I rode home in blissful respite from the southern sun and its relentless heat. It was wonderful, it was a winter wonderland in our minds. Our happiness was cut short five minutes later as we pulled into our driveway. We knew we would have to get out in the heat to bring the unit into the house to set it up. The air-conditioner was portable, so there would be no problem getting it into the house. After all, Strong Young Man just set it up in the truck bed without breaking sweat. On the radio, a talk-show host was giving his opinion about world affairs and we decided his input into our decision of whom to vote for in the fall was indispensable. We stayed there five more minutes, then faced the reality of the weather de jour.
Well, Dear Readers, there was nothing portable about that thing! It was half the size of a refrigerator and felt just as heavy. Old Man climbed onto the bed (there was no more jumping onto the tailgate as in earlier years) and placed his hands on each side of the AC unit and heaved. The unit didn't leave the floor. He heaved again, nothing.
I stood by, my armpits watering the grass, praying for better results. Old Man snapped me out of my reverie by calling my name and insisting I climb into the back of the truck with him. How that would help, I wasn't sure. He revealed his plan. We were to get on each side of the AC, pick up in unison, then carry it to the tailgate, whereupon he would climb to the ground and we would gently drop the AC to the ground. It was difficult to carry that weight very far because beads of sweat blinded me.
The next problem to present itself was the set of steps leading up to the house. Old Man, without a dry spot on his clothing, took it in stride. With his barked orders we managed to heave and ho that thing up the steps, across the floor to its preplanned position.
This simple machine almost beat us when we looked at the directions to put it together. Yes, Dear Reader, they wanted us, who just put money in their pocket, to put the damn thing together. When it was completed, I had to mop the sweat-sopped floor. At least I did it in a cool room.
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