銆€銆€"Nobody opens a window, day or night," warns another friend, whose windows have been painted shut for a decade. "It's just not safe.?On this first night of our cost cutting adventure, it's 30 deGREes. We're not going to suffer, but the three kids grumble anyway. They've grown up in 22-degree comfort, insulated from the world outside.
銆€銆€"How do you open these windows??my husband asks. Jiggling the metal tabs, he finally releases one. A potpourri* of bug bodies decorates the sill. As we spring the windows one by one, the night noises howl outside - and in.
銆€銆€"It's just too hot to sleep," my 13-year-old daughter complains.
銆€銆€"I'm about to die from this heat," her brother yells down the passage.
銆€銆€"Just try it tonight," I tell them.
銆€銆€In truth I'm too tired to argue for long. I'm exhausted after attending Grandma's estate auction. I toted home her oval tin bathtub and the chair I once stood on like a big shot behind the counter of her shop, packing chocolate and rolling coins.
銆€銆€My face is sweaty, but I lie quietly listening to the cricket choirs outside that remind me of childhood. The neighbour's dog howls. Probably a trespassing squirrel. It's been years since I've taken the time to really listen to the night.
銆€銆€I think about Grandma, who lived to 92 and still supervised Mum's gardening until just a few weeks before she died.
銆€銆€And then, I'm back there at her house in the summer heat of my childhood.
I move my pillow to the foot of Grandma's bed and angle my face towards the open window. I flip the pillow, hunting for the cooler side.
銆€銆€Grandma sees me thrashing. "If you'll just watch for the breeze," she says, "you'll cool off and fall asleep.?She cranks up the Venetian blinds. I stare at the filmy white curtain, willing it to flutter.
銆€銆€Lying still, waiting, I suddenly notice the life outside the window. The bug chorus shouts, "Ajooga! Ajooga!?Neighbours, sitting on their verandas until late, speak in hazy words with sanded edges that soothe me.
銆€銆€"Keep watching for the breeze," Grandma says softly, and I'm h-huh?in reply. Bugs ping the screen. Three blocks away a train rumbles by.
銆€銆€I catch the scent of fresh grass clippings. Then I hear something I can't decode - perhaps a tree branch raking the shingles on the shop roof next door.
銆€銆€Sleepy-eyed now, I focus on the curtain. It flutters...
銆€銆€"Mum, did you hear that?"my seven-year-old blurts. "I think it was an owl family.?"
銆€銆€Probably," I tell him.Just keep listening...?
銆€銆€Without the droning air conditioner, the house is oddly peaceful, and the unfiltered night noises seem close enough to touch.
銆€銆€I hope I'm awake tonight when the first breeze sneaks in.
