The nesting is in full swing over here at Casa de Tryforos. Friday evening Nick arrived home from work to find me up on a stepladder, scrubbing away at our range hood. I got about halfway done before tuckering out, but when I went back to finish the next day I snapped these pictures to illustrate just how big of a difference a magic eraser can make.
Impressive, no? Now imagine me tackling every inch of my kitchen with that little melamine sponge. Anyway, after I decided to call it quits on Friday I just could not cool off. I kept going on and on to Nick about how hot I was, but since he seemed to be feeling fine I figured I had just overdone it a bit with all that scrubbing and took a tepid bath to cool down. But by bedtime Nick was feeling a little warm too, and when he checked the thermostat it said it was 85 degrees in our house! The outside unit was running but the inside was not. What a cruel twist of fate. If you’re not particularly familiar with the many joys of pregnancy, one little detail you may not be aware of is that fetus = internal space heater. To be so pregnant I’m about to pop in the middle of a Louisiana summer is bad enough already without the added burden of a broken AC.
Lucky for us, my sister is engaged to an AC repairman. They came by the next morning and he was able to tell pretty quickly that we needed a new motor, which would probably not be such a big deal except for the fact that a motor for our specific make and model is apparently very expensive–like $700. We decided to wait and see if the unit is still under warranty before dishing out the dough ourselves. Hopefully by the end of the day today our AC will be fixed and we may or may not be $700 poorer.
We thought about leaving for the weekend, maybe going to visit one of our parents’ houses or getting a hotel, but I knew that I would just spend the whole time thinking about all that I could be getting done at home. So, while I didn’t accomplish nearly as much as I would have given the benefit of cool air, I did spend most of my weekend puttering around my house in varying states of undress, vacuuming, dusting, and scrubbing everything in sight. I kept a spray bottle nearby to spritz myself with cool water. I turned the clawfoot tub in our master bath into the world’s tiniest swimming pool by filling it with cool water and taking a dip every time I felt so inclined. And our upstairs bedroom, usually the hottest room in the house thanks to its bajillion windows and tendency to trap hot air rising up the stairs, became a haven of refreshment thanks to the window unit that we usually run only at night.
So I survived the weekend and my bedroom is now spotless. Hopefully it’ll be no time at all before our air conditioning is back up and running and I can move on to more pressing matters, like wiping down the fronts of all the cabinets and drawers in our kitchen.