Hunkering

I went out before nine this morning to water the chickens and the garden, and to pick kale and chard, and almost passed out from the heat. After a cold shower, on this the second day of a week-long heat wave, I went into heat survival mode.

I went around the house and closed all windows and doors. I pulled down the shades. I drew the curtains. I closed off the guest rooms. In our bedroom I pulled off the duvet and stashed it away (the very sight of it was making me sweat). I piled some extra pillows on the bed and turned on the big ceiling fan. Then I got my laptop, took off my shoes and climbed in. And this is where I will stay until the universe takes pity on us and sends some cool air our way.

Did I mention that we don't have air conditioning?

Every year my husband proposes that we buy a window unit for the bedroom, and every year I talk him out of it. I worry that if we get an air conditioner I will lose all ability to tolerate heat and become dependent on the thing--I have a vision of myself, pale and wan from a summer spent indoors while the gardens around me wilt and perish. I worry that our increased demand on the power company will be the straw that breaks its back, and then nobody will have air conditioning, or lights, or even water (rural well pumps being powered by electricity).

It seems to me that we should be able to ride out this onslaught just like we ride out a winter blizzard. This kind of weather never lasts long around here. Five days ago people were wearing sweaters. Before we know it, the nights will be cool again, the days more bearable.

In the meantime, we will hunker down. Vermonters are good at hunkering, though usually they hunker around a wood stove. Me, I will hunker under the fan, and become one with the heat.