It's too hot to be smart these days, so I"m getting by on muscle memory and hope. We aren't sleeping well, the fan on, the blankets off, the whine of the freeway in the distance. The tomatoes on the deck wilt despite twice a day watering, and this in a time of drought. The floor seems hot. Even now in my office, I'm sweating, and it's only 8.01 am.
I know I'm a big complainer about heat, but I was raised in the San Francisco Bay Area, and we only used to endure about five hots days and nights a summer. We'd sit out in the twilight until past bedtime, the mosquitoes buzzing our heads. We'd drink precious and rare Coca Colas and the house was alive until dawn, people walking around, unable to believe that it was actually night, the house so warm. Finally, my parents bought a big metal box fan and we'd argue over which room got it, the whine and the wind putting us to sleep.
But now there are more than five intolerably hot days per summer, and if it weren't for global warming, my conscience, the price, and the looks I'd get from my environmentally savvy friends, I'd put in an air conditioning unit.
How does anyone get anything done in, say, Phoenix? We can't always be in air conditioning. There have to be moments of movement out in the heat. How is it possible? I can barely imagine getting into my car in that constant heat, though the car is likely the only place to be because it has air conditioning.
My sons complain about the damp in the Northwest, so I propose a middle ground. Maybe Coos Bay, Oregon, as the place to live from now on. I can imagine it now: cool fog winds, the moistness on my face, the air cold in my lungs.
Causes Jessica Inclán Supports
Women for Women International Goodwill Industries Lindsey Wildlife Museum Freecycle.org