Last week, we had some comparatively hot weather. Our fancy thermometer with sensors inside and out of the house registered up to ninety-four degrees Fahrenheit outside before it decided that it was too hot and refused to work anymore. Our indoor temperature got up to eighty-four degrees on a few days, and I was concerned the indoor monitor would succumb to peer pressure and join the outdoor monitor in refusing to work under such conditions. It does not help to cool you down to have a thermometer let you know you're going to start cooking soon, but I suppose it is nice to have confirmation that the heat is not all in your head. Up to those ninety-four humid degrees, we definitely had confirmation.
In general, our family can almost never agree with what constitutes a comfortable temperature. I swear that Pig must be exothermic, for the man just exudes heat. It could be twenty degrees out and he would feel comfortable enough to go outside without a jacket. I, on the other hand, feel like I am freezing to death when the temperature drops below seventy-six degrees, and am looking forward to menopause because of the promise of hot flashes. Horse argues that she is roasting and does not want to wear a jacket when it is fifty outside. Rooster swears that she needs her thick winter mittens on even at sixty-five degrees. (That's my girl!) Pig Jr. cannot seem to make up his mind. He will rip off his mittens when it is below freezing outside, but will pull them on again once it is about sixty degrees. His head almost always feels hot to the touch, but he insists on multiple layers of hats and hoods as long as he is required to wear a coat. I wonder if he inherited his father's genes in giving off heat while at the same time inheriting my inability to ever feel warm. Genetics never gave the poor kid a chance.
Last week's weather finally had us all agreeing that it was just too hot outside. Poor Pig was forced to install the window air conditioners a few weeks earlier than normal. Rooster developed a two-day tummy ache that might have been related to overheating. Horse was in her element while camped out reading in front of one of our window AC units. Pig Jr. walked around with his hands over his ears every time he walked into our living room due to the noisy old window unit Pig had installed.
The living room's air conditioner decided it didn't like the heat either, and started spitting at us. A pool of water droplets collecting on our leather couch clued us in to its wet raspberries. After around seven years of putting up with cooling us down, it decided it had enough. Pig put it out of its misery and installed a newly purchased unit that no longer rattled, shook, and ran constantly, much to Pig Jr.'s relief.
Finally, we achieved a reasonable temperature in our house. With the window units cycling on and off for most of the day, the indoor temperature hovered around seventy-eight degrees, so Rooster and I were in our elements. We tried not to gloat too badly at the still-overheating rest of the family, but we probably failed in that endeavor. Nature must have overheard us.
Just a scant few days later, a nasty storm system passed by north of here and ushered in some absolutely gorgeous weather. At sixty-eight degrees, according to my online sources, our window air conditioners are sitting silent and unnecessary. Pig and Horse are much happier right now, and I suppose it is only fair that they enjoy a few days of weather that is comfortable for them. As for me, I'm shivering in my sweater and starting to look forward to the dog days of August, where I know I can maintain a pleasant seventy-eight degrees in the house all day long.
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