Well, people who know me know that I love weather and temperatures- all types, all extremes and everything in between. I love winter and snow and cold, I love summer and heat, love rain, rainstorms, gray skies, and blue skies too, etc. etc. For me the temperature range is as follows: Below 20 is cold... 20-30 is chilly... 30-40 is cool.... warm is 40-90, and then above 90 it starts getting hot. I used to say, "I'm not cold, I'm Scandinavian!" Until it struck me that I was (unintentionally) lying over and over, whereupon I considered my German and English heritage and switched the saying to, "I'm not cold, I'm AngloSaxon!" (this reverberated into many other areas such that, "I'm not hurt, I'm AngloSaxon!" "That doesn't bother me, I'm AngloSaxon!" .... but I digress, I guess)
My bedroom is the room I can totally control in this house, I mean in this chicken coop, and so I like to keep my windows open as long throughout the year as I can, and enjoy as much of the natural outdoor seasonal temperature and fresh air as possible. They might be closed November through February. This year, as has become the latest fashion, spring has been basically non-existent, so we suddenly had a week of 90-degree weather in May and even though I was ecstatic, I realized I would have to do something because it is always a bit harder to sleep in hot weather.
And we don't have the air conditioner installed yet because we don't have a drill.... We found this out after opening the new window air conditioner and figuring out how to install it while I was busy and Stacey was tired, and after I had got a huge splinter in my toe running out barefoot to hold the air conditioner in place from the outside while we attempted to maneuver it into the correct position only to find that- the screw holes were missing! After that I sat on my floor trying to pry out the splinter with a needle while Stacey chatted with the neighbors to find out when someone could come drill. It has been a long time since splinter digging started drawing blood and wreaking throbabble pain and so I was quite relieved to get it out.
After the failed installation, I remembered the brilliant idea of last summer where I propped up my box fan on my window ledge and on the ironing board so it could suck all the cool air of the night into the room and blow it all over. Aaaaahh! I was very happy. I can't take total credit for this though, it was inspired by the basic science behind my dad's construction which involved a huge fan on the attic stairs doing the same thing. Ahh fans, so much nostalgia around them, don't you find? Anyway, I was very proud of my homemade air-cooler and took a picture. With my snazzy phone of course. Telling myself, "I wasn't born yesterday!" and giggling proudly. See below for the picture.
5 seconds later I took a step backward and happened to glance down and see a grass stem on the floor, which I poked, only to find it was my needle which I had almost stepped on.
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