I'm a northern New Englander of mainly Quebecois and Irish ancestry. I do not deal well with the heat. Today, Portland, Maine hit a record for July with 100 degrees. I work mainly outside, with my only indoor refuge a maintenance shop in an old barn, with no air conditioning. By the end of the day, all I could think of was stopping somewhere and buying some tiny, little AC unit to combat the heat in our tiny, south-facing apartment. Normally, I would never shop at Walmart, but that was my first stop. No joy. Then I went to the Mall. I tried Best Buy. No dice. I went into Sears, where the nice gentleman in Appliances told the guy in front of me that there are no air conditioners to be had anywhere in the area. I thanked him and headed home. I found poor little black Kaylee Kitty looking like an oil spill on the floor, mewing at me piteously. After rummaging in the freezer, I found an ice pack that I wrapped in a towel and put on the lino in the kitchen. She hasn't moved off it since I put it there.

Kaylee and I agree: we've had enough.