Air conditioning

Sandy described herself as having a one-degree comfort zone — she was quickly either too cold or too warm. And if she was too warm, especially, she was quite vocal about it. Some of our most memorable arguments were inspired by heat, either because we were both irritable in our discomfort or because we disagreed about what measures to take.

Our apartment in Venice

One time in particular stands out in my memory. We traveled to Venice, Italy, in May 2003, and had a wonderful time. As was our habit, we rented an apartment so that we could cook our own meals and feel more a part of the place we were exploring. It was a great apartment in many ways, but Venice gets quite warm even early in the year, so we had the windows open. But the windows had no screens. For most of my life*, mosquitoes have seen me as a feasting ground, and the Venetian mosquitoes were excited by my presence. I insisted that we shut the windows unless we could cobble together some kind of screen. Back and forth we went. I don't remember who won, but I know we were both cranky and uncomfortable, and I have a vague memory of spending the night pinning sheets down around my body with my arms and head trying to avoid mosquitoes. As I recall, we searched the stores for portable window screens the next day, though I don't think we had much luck.

The temperatures cooled off nicely at night when we were
wandering around Venice. But by day, it was warm, and we
hadn't packed for that. I didn't even have sandals with me.
Venice is known for its shoes, and I couldn't find anything
affordable or practical, so we went to a big department store
and I ended up with some bamboo flip-flops that say "Maui"
of all things. Just another travel oddity.

When Sandy lived with John and Nicole, her bedroom was in the attic, which grew quite warm. They bought her a window air conditioner and it made her very happy. It came with her when she moved in with me, and John mounted it in her room. She'd intended to use her room as an office, parallel to mine, but mainly used it for storage and we used it as a guestroom, so it had a futon that could be sofa or bed. On hot nights, we'd sometimes sleep in there with the air conditioning, but I always resisted before giving in. Even with uncomfortable temperatures, I prefer to sleep in our bed. When the window air conditioner expired a few years ago, even that option was closed to us.

Then last year, we had a mini-split heat pump installed. It's close to miraculous, as the first floor is now warm enough to inhabit on even the coldest days but we're using less energy than our ineffective heaters used. Sandy, however, was most excited about the fact that it also includes air conditioning. In much of the country, air conditioning is a standard feature in homes, but in Seattle, it's rare. When we were discussing the installation with the company representative, he said they could install two interior units with a single outdoor pump, so we could have one, say, in the bedroom as well. I said we really didn't need that; it wasn't difficult to keep the upstairs warm. But Sandy got excited: "Air conditioning in the bedroom!" Had the cost not been prohibitive, I'd have gone along with the idea, but instead I said, "We can just sleep in the living room if we need to." She looked at me with that indescribable way she had of expressing frustration, disbelief, and resignation all at once, and said, "You'll never agree to that." She was right. I laughed, admitted my own stubbornness, and agreed to consider it. In the end, she was the one who gulped hard when she found out how much it would cost to put the second unit in, and we didn't do it.

As it turned out, Sandy never got to enjoy the air conditioning. The heat pump was installed in March of 2011, so she experienced the heat it provided on the first floor. But we turned it off in May, and June and July were both cool. In fact, I never tried it at all last year; we had only a couple of days that even got above 80 degrees and fans were enough for me.

This year, I've used it a few times. The first time I used it was our 94-degree day a few weeks ago. I had it on and set the temperature lower than I ordinarily would, hoping to cool off the upstairs rooms as well. It didn't work. The living room was cold; the bedroom was still uncomfortably warm, even with the window fan. I flashed back on our conversation, wondering whether I could sleep in the living room. And laughed. She was absolutely right. I turned off the air conditioning and went up to bed. I was fortunate that the air cooled rather quickly outside and the fan was enough to let me sleep well, but I'm just stubborn enough that I'd have stayed upstairs suffering regardless. The main reason I wouldn't sleep downstairs now is that I worried I'd sleep poorly, feeling vulnerable with the sounds from the street while I slept alone on the sofa. If Sandy had been here, it's entirely possible that I'd have been willing to sleep on the air mattress in the living room. We slept on our bed in the living room the first few nights she was home in July, after all. But it's likely there'd have been an argument before I finally gave in. The woman definitely knew me.

We loved the staircase in our apartment building in Venice, so I snapped this
photo from the top of it. If you look closely, you'll see Sandy and her cleavage
waiting for me at the bottom of the stairs.

*Since my open-heart surgery in March 2009, mosquitoes are much less interested in me. I don't know why, but it makes it much less stressful for me to spend time outside, especially away from Seattle's relatively mosquito-free environment.