A hot time in the old town tonight

We don't have central air conditioning in this house. We used to have a swamp cooler that did a relatively decent job (well, except for the moths and other small bugs it slurped in through the kitchen window), but after a particularly muggy week last month (one week out of the whole summer!) we got rid of it.

Our current strategy for battling endless days of triple digits and high 90-degree temperatures consists of a small window a/c unit in the kitchen (which tends to freeze up and quit working if left on too long) and fans in each of the bedrooms.

We have a digital thermostat in the hallway that enables me to watch the internal temperature climb. Anybody want to guess yesterday's high? Not for the town we live in, but for the inside of our house.

89? Anybody guess 89F? *Bingo!* Gold star for you. 89 freaking degrees inside our house for most of the afternoon. (By midnight it had cooled off to a "pleasant" -- yes, that's sarcasm in my voice -- 82. By 3am, 77. This morning at 6:55, 75F. You'll note that none of these is at or below the universally accepted room temperature of 72.)

In my regular life, I might not mind so much. (DH still would, but eh.) I'm usually very cold natured; I was even cold while pg with Dos, who was born at the end of July in the West Texas heat. But this time? I now understand why they euphemistically refer to pregnancy as having a bun in the oven! I'm feeling very oveny. VERY. I'm sweating from places I didn't even know had sweat glands (though for the sake of propriety I'll spare you the specifics).

We're saving our money to install central air next spring; DH has vowed that we will not live like this again! (Uh, except for the immediate future.) Of course, by then I won't be pregnant anymore and I'll probably be back to my cold natured self, wearing turtleneck sweaters in June and cursing the a/c gods while cowering under my electric blanket. Oh well.

Anything's got to be better than this.


~RCH~