Heat wave, country style

It's hot. I know what my blog heading says 'blogging and slogging, et cetera; so I haven't changed it.

Anyway, I am talking triple digits and high humidity and no air conditioning. And an irrigation pump that is non-functioning. Well, it spits at the poor trees and bushes. That's because the pond is low, and the pump is in the pond.

And the pool is broken.

And George is in Alaska for the fourth week this summer.

I think I am getting cranky, but there is no one home to know or to complain, so probably not.

I have fans everywhere (not the cheering or stalking type). I have a bucket of cold water in front of my chair to soak my feet. I hose down the chickens and their pens and the front of the house. I keep wiping the granddog with a cool wet cloth (after which he thinks he has had a bath and does laps around the house, snorting and spraying spit like a Rain-bird sprinkler). It is eighty-six in the house before noon. Going up the stairs is like entering a sauna.

I called all over for air-conditioners; 'No, sorry, all out. We have two arriving from China tonight. I can hold spot number three hundred twelve on the waiting list, if they are not purchased...' Thanks, no... But, wait; Home Depot has some. 'Hurry, they are going fast' 'Can you hold two for me?' 'No, ma'am, I'm not supposed to...' Pout. Whine. Pause... 'Well, get here in ten minutes...' 'I can do that!'

Then, on the way, a damn cop stopped me because some old asshole wouldn't let me merge, speeding up to cut me off in the merge lane, flashing his lights and flipping me off. I didn't get a ticket, just allowed some other woman's husband (the cop) to give me a little lecture on driving, all the while trying to set him on fire with my eyes. (I have my own husband to lecture me, dummy, go home and torture your wife...) He didn't even see the old shit asking for trouble. And my telling him about it didn't save me from the lecture...

Anyway, by the time I got inside Home Depot (actually, the lecture occurred in the parking lot), some sweet citizen had ripped the 'hold for' sign off the a/c units, threw it on the floor and took them. I was not pleased. But, way high on the bare shelves, I spotted some boxes that looked promising. The clerk assured me that those were not the ones I wanted. I climbed like a monkey, drawing alarmed cries from the clerk, and said, 'Ah, ha! I want these!' 'And, I want the display model!' I was on a roll. I would have bought ten if they had them. At $200 a pop. The clerk begged me to come down.

I called my sister, who was at that point still unsuccessful in her quest for an a/c unit, and then I hovered over my two carts like some crazy bag lady until she got there. People went by, slowing to look at the a/c's, and I would advance, placing a hand on the cart handle. They would look up smiling, only to freeze like that when they saw my face. I don't know, but I'm guessing I looked hot and sweaty and fed up and on-the-edge. I had had it with traffic, cops, lectures, selfish stealing consumers, trying to climb safely with a fat young man screaming like a girl, and now, waiting.

Finally, I got home with my loot. My nephew came over to install the units. Things are beginning to cool, about a degree every six hours. But, I am sitting in front of one, feet in a bucket of water, iced lemonade in my hand, wet washcloth on my neck, the picture of American consumerism and capitalism at work. And, I figure, the money I saved not getting a ticket and not being arrested for bitch slapping that old fart more than covered the cost of the air conditioners!