Cheese Louise it's soggy here. Not a breeze, the air hangs miserably inert. Oh, sure the trees and plants love it. It couldn't be greener. But every breath is like when you were sick as a child and your mother made you lean over a basin of boiling water with a towel over your head. The single long-stemmed rose that only opened on Monday is already dead! It's too wet.
I'd really hoped I could do without an air conditioner. It is pretty countrified here in Moist Meadows. Usually that's enough to keep it cool, but no. This is a gully. Maybe they get the winds up on the hills behind us or across the way. We get stagnation. And mold. This reminds me of a little house of a guy I knew in Florida. His cement shower was black with mold. I bleached the hell out of it before I'd set foot in there. And 2 weeks later it was all back. Yuk. I've been keeping it at bay here, with a can of trusty Lysol. But with all this beyond uncomfortable humidity I may have to break down and buy an AC. Dammit.
Air conditioners are, I suppose, not all that horrible. Yes, they emit nasties, use a lot of electricity, harbor icky spores that blast out into your upholstery... but is my single unit gonna make much of a difference to the ozone layer? Wouldn't it be better to be somewhat drier, breathing easier, not inhaling Lysol and not bitching on my blog about how friggin clammy this place is? Well, I've argued myself closer to it, anyway.
Hamlet Under Almond Bough
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