Still appreciating the invention of Willis Carrier

                Musing near the end of summer, I see some gratifying changes within this 87-year-old house, that one person thinks may have been a Sears home. You know, from the Sears catalog, like the Jim Walter homes Dad helped build during part of his career. I’ve actually seen an old catalog, and yes, Sears DID sell homes. I’ll never know whether this house was indeed a Sears home, and I don’t care. What difference would it make if it were?

                With the brick and rock façade it would be difficult to install central heat and air. Six window ACs “live” on the main floor—three in the bedrooms, one in the small back room we originally called the breakfast room, but which now holds a table of African violets, a small round table with matching chairs, a vanity-turned-storage and a west-window AC. The former hallway across from the room itself houses the cat’s necessaries, the shredder and the hamper.

                Before new windows were installed, which meant removing the ACs from the spaces, then replacing them, the sunroom-cum-office AC was moved by the window crew from a south window to an east one, visible from the yard. No problem.

                The living room unit also faces east and protrudes onto the concrete porch about halfway down its length. It’ll soon be time to decorate the protrusion with a large basket of cones, colored corn, dried gourds and silk flowers. But that’ll be AFTER it cools down enough NOT to need the AC. Last night's thunderstorm and rain cooled things down enough that it was pleasant to sit in the swing this morning and continue reading Ciardi's "How Does a Poem Mean."

                With the installation of new windows all around and even upstairs, and with five window ACs running from noon till bedtime, I was surprised at the lower electric bills. Of course, that was one of the reasons for replacing the 87-year-old ones that rattled and rolled in the least bit of wind.

                A smattering of AC history reveals that during 1948, “crude air conditioning systems showed up with . . . hoopla in top-of-the-line Detroit cars.” (Paul Dickson, “From Elvis to E-Mail.”) Reader’s Digest’s “The Origins of Everyday Things” says, “The first true air conditioner, featuring humidity control, powered ventilation, as well as mechanical refrigeration, was patented in 1902 by the American inventor Willis Carrier.” And, “The addition of a dust filter in 1906 to improve the air in textile mills led to the term ‘air conditioning’.”

                Online, I discovered that while most in the U. S. have air conditioning, almost no one in Germany has. At least, not yet. “By letting people in overheated climates concentrate on their work and get a good night’s sleep, air conditioning has played a big part in driving global prosperity and happiness over the past few decades – and that revolution has still barely begun. About half of Chinese households have this modern tool, but of the 1.6 billion people living in India and Indonesia, only 88 million have access to air conditioning at home, Bloomberg New Energy Finance noted in a recent report.” (from Bloomberg News, June, ’19)

                Will climate change affect our need for comfort and our method for achieving it ? We shall see. In the meantime--or at the same time--let's enjoy the changing of the "guard" from summer to autumn.

c 2019, PL dba lovepat press, Benton AR USA

               

               

Going back to college after 40 years--quite a challenge

                                                    Intro to Graduate Studies textbooks

          And that’s just getting approved for an online graduate course, which application called for three things: a 10-page, double-spaced selection of my poetry (which was the easiest thing to do); write an essay about why I thought I’d be a good MFA candidate; and the hardest part: a critical analysis of an aspect or element of a piece of literature. I WAS A MUSIC MAJOR! before turning to poetry and other types of writing! But I researched and cogitated several days before deciding how to frame the piece, which, luckily, was to be only three pages, double-spaced. I chose Robert Frost's "A Tuft of Flowers" as my subject. The effort paid off. I was accepted to the program.

                Then came the act of enrolling in the university, which meant sending transcripts. I’d kept a folder for transcripts, so I picked out one from Hendrix and the other from UAF and mailed them in.  When they hit the Admissions office, Stormy called or emailed saying, no, they had to be ordered from the institutions themselves. So I did, emailing after finding the sites, the particular department. Both places quickly and nicely told me how and where to get them. (Would they even HAVE transcripts back that far???) I ordered PDF copies and paid for them. Two days later, emails said they’d been sent and received. So now I was enrolled with an ID number, a UAM password and University email address.

                An email from the Cashier’s office saying I had till the ‘27^th of August at 3 p.m. to get my bill paid or to make arrangements. She told me where to go: Weevilnet. What to do: put in all my numbers and finish the process. Couldn’t get anything to work. The IT girls laughed at me, but one accessed the cashiers office and told me the amount of my bill. She shocked me by saying the $1200+ cost showed a “senior citizen waiver” and was . . . zero!!   The IT “boss” gave me directions and the email for the cashier’s office for a “finalization.” That figure was verified, though the MFA director told me earlier that graduate classes meant a payment. She emailed her dean, but to this day, I haven't received a notice of payment due.

                With the arrival of my second text for the beginning class, I emailed my professor (as it turned out, the director of the MFA program) telling her that after Labor Day, I'd be ready to "roll."

"I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but the term started last week," the professor emailed. EEK! No one told me! Admissions was "supposed to," she said. So already I was behind--a place I'd never been before.

 On Labor Day, I did host my high school class’s 65^th reunion at Couchwood, and the next day, I began catching up on my three assignments--already late. Thanks to Kathy Boone, I have one of them posted. The second one, a bibliography of  "20 Works Consulted" will go in Thursday, and I'll begin reading the second chapter in the Barry text for the third one.

          A church friend asked me "Why in the world are you doing this?" "Because I can," I answered, partly truthfully. We shall see. It's a 48 credit-hour course. My FB friends have been super encouraging, for which I am grateful.

c 2019, PL dba lovepat press, Benton AR USA