Aggressive solar

My husband brought my over-sleeping to an end this morning at 8:50 a.m. by informing me that the Imaginary Chipmunk was back. The striped critter occasionally scurries through the great room, easily entering via our faulty foundation.

Usually, only I see him. Once he stopped by when my Mother-in-Law was joining us for lunch. Now Matt “imagined” him, too. Where he is now? No clue. I’m guessing he came in to escape heat only to learn there really was no escape. Like us, he probably fled outside to survive the 96°F weather.

I’m a lover, not a hater. There is one thing that does, however, negatively inflame my passions: the 20 skylights in our great room. I assure you that this feature is hate-worthy. Oh skylights, how do I hate thee? Let me count the ways (with apologies to Elizabeth Barrett Browning):

1. I hate thee for your length and width and height as you disrupt my morning and ruin my sight. Let me explain. I wanted to ease into the day before tackling my chores. Get properly caffeinated, see a few home shows, eat a bowl of cereal and chat with my husband… Tough to do when you are blinded by the light. Glaring sunlight. Through each ridiculous skylight (as shown in the Photomerge™ image above; click to enlarge).


2. I hate thee for the level of every day’s most uncomfortable heat, by sun and into night. For example, during the winter, it was 80°F in the room on a day when there was snow on the ground. Today at 3:40 p.m., it was still 95.5° outside—and 80° inside after a full day of running the AC and keeping the shades down. At almost mightnight, it still 76.6° indoors. Balmy! These skylights do not provide the eco-benefit of passive solar—they radiate at us with aggressive solar! How much environmental damage have these roof windows wrought? How much money have they cost us as we try in vain to condition the air in our home?


3. I hate thee purely, as ye let in the rain. With the setting of the sun, we saw the storm in “stereo” on both the local weather channel as a green blob and out our windows. Across the lake, neighbors presented an impressive fireworks display, with thunder as applause and lightning as the crescendo. Then came the rain down—and the rain came in.

Hopefully, it won’t be too much longer until the builder slays my nemesis; Matt dropped off the permit application at the municipal building department on Friday. Sonnet 43 says it best: I shall but love thee better after thy death.