Memorial Day has come and gone. It's time for white belts to match white shoes, white purses and white pants. Hot weather and high humidity. And broken central air.
Anyone that knows me knows I'm an A/C kinda guy. From the time my Dad brought home that first Chevy Impala blowing ice cold air I was a believer. The first year I lived in Michigan I learned the importance of having the same appliance in the home: Finding your book of stamps glued together and every book on the shelf starting to warp was enough to make me shut my windows for good. The humidity is too much for this boy and his trove of books, magazines, photographs and art on paper.
Over the weekend, as the humidity climbed and the temperature in the house hit 80, I was just grateful the unit went down on the tail end of a holiday weekend. The repair guy was here and gone in an $80 minute Tuesday morning and both temperature and humidity were well in hand by nightfall.
I love a cool breeze. I love a warm day. Hot, cold, arid or humid; I love weather and all the sights, smells, and sensations it brings to the senses. Just not in my house.
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