Tuesday, June 17, 2014

Air Conditioning by Popular Demand

Dear John,
 
It's 92 outside, and your little family is in air conditioning. I actually turned it on Sunday night. It was hot and humid, and I could tell that the animals were miserable. I know you thought I'd never close the windows again without you here to make me do it. But here I am, acting like a grown-up. Be proud of me.
 
I think they want me to stay home.
The drive-up area at work is much warmer than the lobby, and there's a big fan that I use on days like this. I have to keep moving it so that the breeze isn't pointing where I'm trying to work at the moment. When I get off I get in the car, which has been closed all day. So when I come home it feels wonderful to walk into air conditioning. We're all sleeping much better with it on. Bless the animals, they're walking around in fur coats, so I know that they need it right now.
 
Speaking of the animals, they're happy that we're all back home. Abby doesn't want Jethro out of her sight. When I let him outside, she sits at the back door watching for him. When he comes to the door to be let in, she yowls until I open the door. Hunter has been cuddly since I got back. He sits in my lap on the couch and rubs against my legs when I'm up. He's slept on me almost all of the last two nights, which gives me another reason to enjoy the air conditioning - he puts out a lot of heat. When he lies on my ribcage and purrs, it feels like I have a vibrating heating pad.
 
I'll be glad to have a weekend at home. The animals are tired of upheaval and I'm just tired. I wouldn't have missed the last two weekends in Springfield for anything in the world. But I'm so tired, and I'm looking forward to staying here. Saturday I can sleep in, go to the Farmers Market, and go to Lowe's about getting a new lawn mower, and Sunday I can go to church. I'm slowly getting back into my normal routine.
 
Or, what passes for normal now that you're not here. It's been said that widowhood is where normal is a dream and reality is a nightmare. Like Audora said years ago, Normal moved and left no forwarding address. There's just no normal without you.
 
Adore you,
Joan.


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