May 21 13

Before I move on with my day, with my work, with this silly good-for-distraction post, I must take a minute to pause and reflect on what happened in Oklahoma yesterday—the destruction, the devastation, the children. Oh, the children. We were just sitting and giggling about tiny, silly earthquakes that make their way to Ontario and make our desk lamps sway, and then, well, this. It’s just too much. Too much. Check out Whoorl’s post for many quick and easy ways that you can help.

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For the past week, I have woken up with the sun and the birds, singing their Cinderella-esque morning sing-song tune. The sky has been several shades of reds and oranges and yellows. It’s really quite beautiful.

Or, you know, it would be, if it wasn’t the butt-crack of dawn, hours before I actually want to open my eyeballs and face the day.

So, why am I waking up so early, you ask?

It’s on account of the windows. And that they are open. And the fact that there are masses of trucks doing various truck-like tasks to the end of my street, where they are currently putting up a cul de sac filled with the last of the best homes in our neighborhood. Apparently, construction likes to begin in the wee hours of the morning, when most of the neighborhood is tucked in their beds, sleeping comfortably.

But not me—I am wide awake. Because of the windows. And that they are open.

Why are they open, you ask?

It’s on account of my husband of fifteen years. And that twice a year, our marriage comes thisclose to ending over the windows.

Each autumn, as the temperature rapidly drops and the foliage turns every color of the rainbow, the two of us engage in the dance of the heater. Can we turn it on, my extremities are cold? No, not yet. Put on a sweater. Can we turn it on now, I may possibly have hypothermia—is that when your nose turns black. I mean, I’m starting to look like Walter Matthau of here? No, not yet. Put on two sweaters. Get under the down blanket. Put on some socks. Can we turn it on now, I can’t feel my limbs anymore? No, not yet. Woman, you would never make it in the Arctic.

Each spring, as the temperatures finally, finally rise and our wonderful city of Toronto turns from deep winter to deep summer completely overnight, the two of engage is a similar dance to that of the heater, only this time it’s the dance of the air conditioner. Can we turn it on, I’m sweating in places I didn’t know you could sweat? No, not yet. Just take off all of those layers. Seriously, Ali, take off your hoodie. I’m not paying good money so you can wear a hoodie in the house. Can we turn it on now, I want to literally crawl out of my skin. No, not yet. And I think you are misusing the word literally. Can we turn it on now, our children are filled with rage? No, not yet. And they may have gotten my skin coloring, but they certainly got your week constitution.

We’ll call this one Rage Against The Windows, shall we?

rage-against-the-windows

Anyone have a couch for me to sleep on? I’m an easy guest, as long as there are no open windows. I might have three sweaty and ragey children in tow. But they do dishes—and they bake. One even babysits. Anyone?

 

 

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  1. I used to be like this. “Let’s see how COLD I can be before I turn on the heat! Maybe I can make it to December!”

    Now I’m like “eff this! I work hard for my money and worked hard for a place with heat and AC, so I’m turning it on!”

    Although, to be honest, I was stubborn and didn’t actually turn it on until this past Sat. I usually make a rule not before Memorial Day, but it was gross out.

    Comment by Kristabella on May 21, 2013
  2. Oh, I know these dances well. The now? Now? Now? OhmygodI’mgoingtocombust NOW? It’s more volatile in winter, though, because I NEED to be warm. In summer, it takes a while for me to get to the turn the air on or die by my hands point. We’re in the window stage now. Open during the day and into the middle of the night, then quick close them, the damn temps have dropped 30 degrees since we went to sleep and now it’s all cold so why’d you take the blanket off just because it was 80 earlier.

    Comment by Arnebya on May 21, 2013
  3. So glad to know I’m not the only one…dancing 🙂

    Comment by ali on May 21, 2013
  4. Sorry Ali. You wouldn’t like our couch. We have windows and no AC. I do the dance of the blinds and windows all summer long. Close the blinds and windows to keep the heat out in the morning. Open the blinds and windows to let the light and cool air in after 5 pm. In between, I spend the rest of the day in my basement office under a blanket, ’cause it can’t be right to turn on the space heater on May 21, right?

    Comment by Tamara on May 21, 2013
  5. Nice to know we aren’t the only couple. We have a silent war on warmth and cold – I turn the heat or A/C on, he turns it off, no discussion, no notification. We each do a drive-by of the thermostat about 10 times daily to ensure the other person hasn’t reversed our actions…

    Comment by Jackie on May 21, 2013
  6. Our house doesn’t have AC, or I’d offer you our guest room. It *is* in the basement, so there’s that.

    Comment by Angella on May 21, 2013
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    Comment by maryam on June 2, 2013
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