It is no-joke-hot outside – 90s and dry as a saltine whistling contest – and the struggle has begun to keep everything and everyone hydrated and cool. All the cheerful green spring grass has turned into an evil brown haze of sock-destroying stickers. Just walking out into a meadow can cause spontaneous combustion. The swamp cooler accomplishes a clammy sort of relief from the furnace outside (“AC is for pussies,” we scoff as we casually slip another ice cube into our underwear). Time to say goodbye to the upstairs of the house where we huddled next to the Fisher stove all winter – it’s a sauna up there now, hazardous to infants and the elderly, generally unfit for all. You might get arrested for animal cruelty if you leave your dog upstairs in my house in the summer, even if you leave a window cracked.
It might be appropriate to wonder whether the geodesic dome design has some inherent flaws when it comes to circulation of hot and cold air. Somebody might be prompted to Google the phrase “why is my dome like the surface of the Sun?” Not me though. Personally I stay about 700 feet away from that line of thinking, as it will get me nowhere. There’s no good going to come from cursing Buckminster Fuller now. You don’t like it, go sleep in a tent.
Next Google search: “How to install HVAC in your 2 person tent.”
On the plus side, you can dry your laundry outside in about 8 minutes, and watch the tomato plants grow a foot in that amount of time. On the plus plus side: If you can survive the hike and the bathing suit wedgie that comes with it, the river is waiting. Shredded sneakers you can wear in the water: check. Tiny backpacker cooler that is the exact size of a sixpack of beer: Check. SPF 9000: Check. Day off: Not for another 4 days. Boo.