In Which Heat Takes Over My Life by Nancy L. Eady

Today is the last day of July, and the weather here in Alabama reflects it, and then some. Even when the temperature sounds reasonable, the humidity makes it unbearable. Last week, because of rain and clouds, we had a high of 82 one day. The weather people cheerfully informed us that the heat index on this supposedly mild day would make it feel like 102. They were right. 

Heat is not, of course, endemic only to the southeastern United States. I have known people who traveled to Phoenix, Arizona in the summer when the mercury there climbed to 120 degrees. Here in Alabama, we say that it’s not the heat, it’s the humidity that makes things uncomfortable. The people returning from Arizona solemnly informed me that there, it’s the heat, only the heat and nothing but the heat. 

Once, my husband and I went to Boston in late June, and the weather was so beautiful, it blew us away. Highs in the low 80s, beautiful blue skies, refreshing breezes and the type of air that just begs you to drive around with your windows open. When things get too unbearable here, I close my eyes and try to bring those feelings back to mind. 

Normally, in my life here, the heat is an outdoor inconvenience only. I endure it as I travel from my air-conditioned house to the air-conditioned car to the parking garage at work, and then into the office. However, last Saturday, our air conditioner died. And yes, I mean the three-month-old air conditioner in the three-month-old house that we took possession of in April. To say that I was perturbed was an understatement. It also happened to be the hottest weekend leading to the hottest week we have had all summer. 

With the help of four portable air conditioners, we were getting by—one in each of the bedrooms where people sleep, and two in the big main room. Then, beginning Sunday night, the replacement portable air conditioner in our bedroom started malfunctioning. The display kept showing a symbol which meant that the drip tray needed to be emptied. We would empty the tray, and then at vanishingly small intervals the symbol would reappear. By the time the air conditioner quit at 12:30, my husband had moved into the den. He was trying to be chivalrous. When he left the bedroom, he was leaving the room with better air conditioning for the big room which was just squeaking by. My daughter, who had entered my bedroom to get some medicine, helped me empty the thing one more time for the 12:30 a.m. round. When the drip tray sensor tripped again at 2:00 a.m., I gave up and opened the window to get what little night air I could. My husband hadn’t slept well for several nights running, and I didn’t want to wake him up. When the alarm went off at 6:00, I had managed about two hours of sleep for the entire night, which my Fitbit cheerfully documented by telling me it looked like I had had a rough night. It doesn’t do any good to swear at a computer, but it made me feel better. 

The air conditioner repair people arrived by 8:45 Monday morning, and fortunately the new home warranty covers the whole repair. Living through the weekend without our normal air conditioning did make me wonder how our pioneer ancestors managed it, especially considering the amount of clothes the women had to wear. The fortitude they had to persevere and settle in an area of the country where it stays this warm for months at a time is something those of us in the modern world cannot appreciate. And the restraint they showed in not murdering each other while under the influence of hot, humid weather is admirable as well. My regular even-keeled temper stayed on the razor’s edge of raging bull mad as long as the air conditioning was AWOL. 

I have one last piece of advice for anyone stuck in a heatwave sans air conditioning—find someone with a Ford vehicle and get them to take you for a long drive. We have had several Fords, including one now, and Ford air conditioners can freeze you out within 60 seconds of entering the vehicle. I’m not sure what their magic ingredient is, but it works. 

So, here’s to the end of July, and hopes for a cooler August, or at least an August during which everyone’s air conditioner works.

Long Months by Nancy L. Eady

The two longest months of the year are February and July. February is a long month, I think, because it is the dreariest of the winter months and the bills from the December holiday, having dribbled in during January, all become due, so no matter how you try to budget it, the income for that month has to stretch farther than it does for any other month. 

July is a long month because I spend it in Alabama. Today is July 18. These first eighteen days feel like thirty-one. When we first married, we lived in North Carolina for three years. July wasn’t as long then because it wasn’t as hot there as in Alabama during the same month. The daily temperature in North Carolina was two to three degrees cooler. You wouldn’t think it would matter, but it did. 

The July heat crashes into you as soon as the month arrives. There are places and seasons where the weather likes to ignore the calendar. Alabama in July is not one of them. (An Alabama fall or winter, on the other hand, can have four seasons in one week, maybe even one day, but that’s a different post)

Whatever poets waxed eloquent about the halcyon days of summer do not live where I live. I read a line from a poem about the “whispers of cicadas.” Our cicadas don’t whisper. Their song constantly undulates from a dull shout to a cresting wave. It’s even louder when the thirteen- or seventeen-year batches hatch. 

Outdoor recreation, unless it involves water and shade, grinds to a halt until after 6:30 p.m. at night. I spend my time hurrying from the air-conditioned house to the air-conditioned car to the air-conditioned office or store and back again. Because of the vagaries of the building where I work, I end up having to wear a sweater while I’m in the building, a terrible waste. The controls are building wide; we don’t get to regulate the temperatures in our individual office suites. Ten seconds outside is enough to banish any lingering chill. 

August is also hot, but most Augusts have a “cool” wave about the third week, which makes August shorter than July. Down here, school starts mid to late August, so that breaks up the month as well. 

What months seem long to you?

It's Hot, Y'all! by Nancy Eady

This past Saturday in Montgomery, Alabama the temperature reached at least 95 degrees. On September 28, six days after the official start of fall. I am formally registering a protest with the Weather-Powers-That-Be as soon as I find out who they are. I get that I live in a state known for its heat and humidity in the summer and that summer extends from late May through early September, but at this point in the calendar, even here in Alabama, we’re entitled to lower temperatures. Nothing drastic, mind you, just temperatures topping out in the mid-80’s instead of the mid-90s. A little less humidity would be nice, too, but I’m trying not to be greedy. And to add insult to injury, apparently Yellowstone is being treated to an early snow storm!

I know for a fact that we hit at least 95 degrees yesterday because I took my daughter and her friend to the Montgomery Zoo. It was by far the worst trip we ever took to a zoo we enjoy.

I think the lions had the best idea—the two lions, one male and one female— found a shady spot in their enclosure and sprawled out sleeping, the male one lying on his back. Other animals looked at the people passing by and you could just tell they thought we were idiots to be out in the heat. I was tempted to agree with them.

The fashion industry runs on a colder clime’s schedule. This is unfortunate, since few of us are in the mood to buy winter coats, wool long-sleeved sweaters and mittens when it’s in the mid-90s outside. Now if they were selling swimsuits, shorts and short-sleeved shirts and T-shirts, that would be another story. I keep waiting for a fashion designer to discover this, but they haven’t so far.

So please do me a favor, if you’re somewhere with more seasonal weather—step outside, take a deep breath of the crisp air, view the deep blue autumnal sky and send prayers and good thoughts our way for your weather to arrive down here soon.