The sea was calm that night.
Even so, the lookouts saw the iceberg in the water. But enough mistakes came together that Kate Winslet and Leonardo DiCaprio are now the Gable and Leigh of their day.
Well, it would not have happened in my bedroom on Sunday night. Titanic faced almost freezing weather. If she had sailed through the weather in my bedroom, no one would have the slightest idea who Edward John Smith was.
Our hot weather continues unabated.
My only defense has been a small portable air conditioner. After trying several methods to make the unit work in the master bedroom, I decided it simply was not designed to cool that much space.
The main guest room is about one-third the size of the master bedroom-bathroom. I decided to try an experiment.
I want you to be kind at this point. I was trained to be a trial advocate, not an engineer.
But here is what faced me. The air conditioner vents hot air through a hose. The unit is well-designed for double-hung windows. Lift the sash, install the adapter. Done.
The problem is the windows in the bedroom are not double-hung. They are designed to ventilate. By turning a crank, individual slats of glass open or close.
The solution seemed obvious. Take out two slats of glass and put the adapter in the window.
It worked. Sort of.
To do that I had to remove the screen that keeps insects out (cue warning music). And the adapter did not quite fill the space.
But I decided to give it a test. In 30 minutes I could feel the room start to cool.
So, Jiggs and I moved into the guest room for the night.
I could feel the cool air coming out of the unit. I turned out the light and tried to get some sleep. But I felt the strangest sensation. Almost as if a very large mammal was breathing on me.
Cool air. Hot air. Cool air. Hot air. The rhythm of a predator.
And I could see the temperature gauge varying between 86 and 88.
A little investigation indicated that el chupacabras was not stalking me.
The house was well-designed to deal with Mexican weather. For obvious reasons, it is not air-tight. It is supposed to allow air to flow through -- to cool.
And that is exactly what was happening. Air was passing through the French doors and through the spaces between the glass slats in both windows. The house was working as designed. As fast as the air conditioner could produce cold air, the house was allowing fresh air to replace it.
Not entirely. I got up in the middle of the night to carry Jiggs down stairs. The air conditioning unit may be inefficient, but it does some conditioning. When I walked out of the bedroom, I felt as if I had been hit in the face with a hamper of wet towels.
So, here ends the tale of the air conditioner. I have done what I can. I will use it for Jiggs's sake. And just wait for September to pass.
The locals assure me that October will bring cooler weather and small flocks of Canadians (and a few Americans mixed in).
Kate Winslet and Leonardo DiCaprio can go get their own room.
Even so, the lookouts saw the iceberg in the water. But enough mistakes came together that Kate Winslet and Leonardo DiCaprio are now the Gable and Leigh of their day.
Well, it would not have happened in my bedroom on Sunday night. Titanic faced almost freezing weather. If she had sailed through the weather in my bedroom, no one would have the slightest idea who Edward John Smith was.
Our hot weather continues unabated.
My only defense has been a small portable air conditioner. After trying several methods to make the unit work in the master bedroom, I decided it simply was not designed to cool that much space.
The main guest room is about one-third the size of the master bedroom-bathroom. I decided to try an experiment.
I want you to be kind at this point. I was trained to be a trial advocate, not an engineer.
But here is what faced me. The air conditioner vents hot air through a hose. The unit is well-designed for double-hung windows. Lift the sash, install the adapter. Done.
The problem is the windows in the bedroom are not double-hung. They are designed to ventilate. By turning a crank, individual slats of glass open or close.
The solution seemed obvious. Take out two slats of glass and put the adapter in the window.
It worked. Sort of.
To do that I had to remove the screen that keeps insects out (cue warning music). And the adapter did not quite fill the space.
But I decided to give it a test. In 30 minutes I could feel the room start to cool.
So, Jiggs and I moved into the guest room for the night.
I could feel the cool air coming out of the unit. I turned out the light and tried to get some sleep. But I felt the strangest sensation. Almost as if a very large mammal was breathing on me.
Cool air. Hot air. Cool air. Hot air. The rhythm of a predator.
And I could see the temperature gauge varying between 86 and 88.
A little investigation indicated that el chupacabras was not stalking me.
The house was well-designed to deal with Mexican weather. For obvious reasons, it is not air-tight. It is supposed to allow air to flow through -- to cool.
And that is exactly what was happening. Air was passing through the French doors and through the spaces between the glass slats in both windows. The house was working as designed. As fast as the air conditioner could produce cold air, the house was allowing fresh air to replace it.
Not entirely. I got up in the middle of the night to carry Jiggs down stairs. The air conditioning unit may be inefficient, but it does some conditioning. When I walked out of the bedroom, I felt as if I had been hit in the face with a hamper of wet towels.
So, here ends the tale of the air conditioner. I have done what I can. I will use it for Jiggs's sake. And just wait for September to pass.
The locals assure me that October will bring cooler weather and small flocks of Canadians (and a few Americans mixed in).
Kate Winslet and Leonardo DiCaprio can go get their own room.
