
This week, with a heat index of 104 and above, I turned the central AC on. We might as well be on another planet, or trapped by a blizzard, but at least I'm not sweating just sitting here, getting increasingly and irrationally irritable.
Cool Comfort: America's Romance with Air-Conditioning is an entertaining read on the history of AC, if you don't try to take it too seriously and you have a tolerance for academic jargon. As much as I agree that porches, sleeping porches, and big windows are wonderful, on days like this I am happy to press a button to cool most of the house down.
1 comment:
I dream of those oak trees I grew up with. I also remember what it was like sleeping on the porch, looking up at the stars until I couldn't keep my eyes open anymore. And where I lived, there were no neighbors, no air conditioners--just lovely, gorgeous quiet. Until Hartsfield International Airpot got too noisy and we had to move...in 1972. I loved that house. I loved those trees.
Post a Comment