Seasons change

Autumn hasn't officially arrived but the cooler temperatures announce that its arrival is imminent.  My sister, brother and I pay close attention to weather.  Summers in North Carolina can bring 100 degree days, so hot that you sweat in the shade.  I think that the heat accounts for the love of iced tea that permeates the south.

The first time I went north I ordered iced tea in a restaurant.  It was a clean, well lighted place and appeared to be civilized, until the waiter brought my tea.  It was a tall glass of amber liquid with only three ice cubes floating at the top.  Not wanting to be rude, I took a sip and was horrified to discover that it was unsweetened.  When I drew this obvious error to my waiter's attention, he pointed to the sugar packets on the table and suggested that I help myself.  Any southern toddler can tell you that it is impossible to appropriately sweeten a glass of cool tea.  The sugar has to be added when the steeped tea is still warm, preferrably hot.  Stir briskly and then add cold water.  And please do not boil the tea bags!

Sorry for the digression, enough about tea and back to why my siblings and I monitor the weather temperatures. 

In North Carolina, heat arrives early and leaves late. We didn't have a/c until I was 14 and we moved into a home with central air.  Our joyous anticipation of cool at last, cool at last, thank God almighty etc. was short lived. 

My dad doesn't believe in spending money. He frequently references his money management skills; the rest of us just call him a tightwad.  Among his many money saving strategies is his thermostat theory. By the way, for a number of years, my mother also was a disciple of this theory.  The essence of the theory is that no matter how hot it is outdoors, if you set the a/c thermostat below the outside temperature, thou shall be cool.  An example of this theory in application: it is a 96 degree day in August with a heat index of a 105; if you set the a/c thermostat at 84 you won't dissolve in a puddle that rivals the wicked witch's demise at Dorothy's hands.

For years, in spite of our cries of "I'm melting!" my siblings and I suffered for approximately five months per year. When we eventually moved out into the wide world to live on our own, we still returned for visits.  Often those visits were during the summer and involved over night stays.  During such visits, my sister, a middle child and always a bit rebellious, would steal over to the thermostat and lower the setting to a comfortable 76 degrees. Unfortunately, my dad would eventually notice that no one was gasping for air and reset the thermostat to 82 as a concession to us.  

However, the real torture occurred after we all went to bed.  Sometime in the night, my dad would ease out of bed and turn the a/c off.  This is a manifestation of the it's cooler at night and no a/c is needed theory.  Around 3:00 a.m., I would wake up, fighting for air and struggling to free myself from a damp bed sheet. Once I opened a window, but my energy efficient parents had installed storm windows.  The storm window was stuck and wouldn't budge.  Determined, I struggled mightily until I met with success.  Exhausted, I lay across the bed with my head pointed toward the faint breeze wafting through the open window.  Then I heard my father's voice, loud and low in the dark, "Don't open those windows, you'll let out all the cool air." 

My siblings and their families continue to visit my parents during the summer, as do I.  However, in spite of our mother's pleas, we refuse to spend the night beginning around Memorial Day through Halloween.

My mother takes great pleasure in having her children visit and spend the night at her house, and she is not pleased with the "no sleep over zone" to which we all adhere.  She permits my father to live there, but it really is her house.  My father is not allowed to contribute to the decor except in the garage and the attic.  The one thing that my father controls in the house is the thermostat.