A cup of tea on a quiet summer morning

I find it ironic after typing the word quiet the dog decides to bless me with his impressive, deep-throated barking.  All is quiet again except for the hum of the fridge and AC, no central air in this old house as yet.  The days of summer heat and huge box fans in the window are a distant memory.  I can still hear my dad explaining how facing the fans outward will pull the air through the front windows of the house, learning about cross-ventilation at the ripe old age of six.  My sisters and I coveted that breeze and the bedroom window, seniority always trumping everything.  Needless to say, as second oldest, victories were few.  Now with AC in nearly every room, my kids complain about being too cold.  Like I said ironic . . .