February 3, 2011. La Paz, Mexico. It’s fifty-six frigid degrees outside at 3:30 in the afternoon. In the sun. And the wind is blowing twenty-five miles an hour. Fifty-six is too low and twenty-five is much too fast.
In 1996 we sold our house in Washington State, quit our jobs, and had a giant garage sale. We got rid of our work clothes, dress shoes and briefcases. We also sold our down jackets, boots, scarves and gloves. Alex and I bought swimsuits, goggles and tropical-colored beach towels, the type covered with palm trees. And we drove south to our desert paradise.
On September3, 1996 we parked in front of our new home and stepped out of our air- conditioned car at 3:30 p.m. We took a breath of La Paz air: a 105-degree steam bath. Our lungs began to sweat. Three or four showers a day didn’t help. It was too hot for the beach so we sat on our patio with our feet in the fountain. Every so often, we dumped a bag of ice into the water. We put wet towels over our heads. The house stayed a steady 92 degrees. We hardly slept.
Just when we thought it couldn’t get any more humid, Hurricane Fausto arrived. Attached to his tail were hoards of flies and mosquitoes. We were living in a Tennessee Williams play. Without the sex.
It was so hot we didn’t have the energy to complain. Our clunky old air conditioners roared, shook and blew hot air into the house. Finally, we found someone who came and serviced them and the indoor temperature dropped to 86 degrees. At 11 p.m.
Once our energy returned, we began to whine. But not too loudly because we’d heard that the rains had arrived in Washington and we knew that Northwest winter wouldn’t be far off.
What we didn’t realize is that winter visits La Paz, also. We learned that cement-block houses with no insulation, heating or fireplaces are cold. In December, I went shopping. Warm sweaters, socks, a jacket, sweat pants, a pair of red gloves, and a stocking cap. Friends gave me scarves for Christmas.
Today I’m wearing four sweaters, my cap and an alpaca scarf. In the house. And I’m still cold. Alex said, “Judy, it’s too cold in La Paz; maybe we should find a tropical paradise where we can spend our winters.” But I’ve come up with a better plan.
We have a 10’ x 12’ office equipped with two computers, a printer, TV, DVD player, adding machine, a phone, and halogen lights. When we close the door and turn on all the electrical equipment, the office is the warmest room of the house. Tomorrow we’re going to move the microwave oven into the office. And buy a hot plate and an old apartment-size fridge – the kind that expels lots of heat. We might install a Murphy bed.
And we’re inviting you to come visit us. We’ve got a stationary bike. We’ll take turns burning calories. It might be a little tight but, hell, we’ll all be warm. Don’t bother knocking because with all this equipment running, we won’t hear you. Just come in, but watch for the ice on the stairs. The office is the room with the closed door. The teapot will be steaming. And if you have a big fluffy dog who dreams of being a lap dog, please bring her. We’ll be waiting for you.
No comments:
Post a Comment