Mechanical woes

Today summer arrived in mid-central Maine (is ‘mid-central’ redundant? But that’s what it’s called). High humidity, temperatures in the lower 90s. I was very happy I’d spent a good two hours yesterday – before it got hot – wrestling with my two air conditioners, getting the side panels put on, getting one into the window in the kitchen, the other into the small bedroom I call my study (some people would call it the computer room, since that is its most noticeable feature, but I’m old-fashioned). The main reason it took so long was the poor design of the little accordion side panels. It was almost impossible to fit the screws into both the hole in the panel and the hole in the side of the unit, and then screw them in with a screwdriver. You just couldn’t get the angle right. I did a lot of helpful swearing.

This kind of defective design always astounds me. In a country full of smart, talented people, it should surely never happen. Which thought sends me to the boxes the a.c.s came in – where were they made? Maybe the fault lies with not-so-smart, not so-talented, but cheap, foreigners. And sure enough, I am greeted with the words Manufactured in Thailand. Which is not to cast aspersions on the Thai in general, but it’s quite possible assembly lines intended to produce goods at as cheap a price as possible do not go in for stringent standards. And I cannot deny a reasonably low price was very much a consideration when I made my purchases. I didn’t want to get the cheapest model available – after all, you get what you pay for, right? – but neither did I want to be paying both arms and both legs to keep my little house a bearable temperature during Maine’s two and a half weeks of summer (which is actually, these days, a gross exaggeration. Thanks, no doubt, to global warming, we generally get a good two months of hot, humid weather...but it sounds more Maine-like to claim a measley two weeks).

Putting in air conditioners is one of those times when women like myself – i.e., not physically strong, not clever with their hands, not good at deciphering cryptic instructions – especially feel the lack of a man around the house. My husband died four years ago, and since then I have struggled with air conditioners, snow shoveling, car problems, hanging pictures, curtains, and storm windows – not to mention moving house several times – all by myself. I have managed, more or less, but it has not been fun, or even particularly satisfying (as in: another challenge met). But then, who ever promised me a rose garden...