Memories of childhood.
Hot summer days. Playing under the sprinkler. Lying on a towel in the sun (but not for too long!). Sprawling on the lounge, curtains drawn, fending off the heat outside. A wet face washer cooled in front of the fan and laid on face and arms for momentary ease.
Lying in bed in the evening with the window wide opening, stifling heat keeping sleep at bay. Waiting for that first breath of moving air. The sheer curtain finally lifting, billowing, and falling back against the glass, but just the once. A cool breeze creeping through the window, not quite strong enough to push aside the curtain. Looping the curtain up out of the way. The breeze picks up, there’s a smell of rain in the air. The first fat drops begin to fall. The sound of wind in the trees heralds its arrival.
The southerly finally hits. I can breathe again and sleep in the welcome coolness.
The air-con problem yesterday was not just operator error. Something ain’t right, there’s someone coming to look at it tomorrow.