I'm still in full whining mode about our unseasonably warm weather. I did not enjoy yesterday until Capt. SO and I left a restaurant last night at 8:45 p.m. and walked to our car. Of course, the sun was down and with its departure the night air was cool but not cold and held very little humidity. It made me wish I was seated on the Aqua RV's upper deck, sweatshirt on but comfortable otherwise. Just a perfect outdoor evening.
The one positive comment I can make about our weather is that, other than a few extra box elder bugs, the other bugs do not seem to have discovered it feels like anything other than March. The song birds have definitely returned, in great numbers, and Robin Red-Breast is back with thousands of his friends.
What vexed me last night and the night before that is the interior temperature of the condo remains a fairly constant seventy four degrees, twenty-four-seven, give or take the mid-day spike. This middle-of-the-road temperature would be perfect when the outside temp is in the eighties and nineties, but at present, I find it difficult to keep my cool day and night.
Capt. SO's office is in our lower level and, as you know, heat rises, so he is cold all of the time now. The upper level holds the heat, plus has the sunshine to warm things so the thermostat - being in the upper level - reads anywhere between seventy-four and seventy-nine degrees during daylight hours. Capt's office temp is usually ten to fifteen degrees colder. I'd prefer to run the air conditioner - he is freezing.
The story of our lives.
During the night, it is really too cool to logically run the air-conditioner but it is too warm and stuffy to sleep comfortably and continually. We've tried adding the bedroom ceiling fan two nights in a row now, but even at its lowest speed, it puts out enough air to make the middle-of-the-road temperature feel a bit too chilly. The result is that I spend the entire night either throwing off covers or sitting upright to fumble for and find additional covers to pull back over me. Capt. SO seems to be unfazed with all of these thermostatic theatrics and awakens rested and refreshed. Me, I look like some wild woman who just escaped Lon Cheney in a 1940's thriller.
Please, March, could you act your age?
Ancora imparo
