It was sometime in the ’60s. We were living in a big house in Iowa City’s Goosetown area. The house didn’t have central air conditioning, but my husband had bought one window unit for our bedroom– the justification being that he needed to have a good night’s sleep in order to be able to work the next day. The kids and I, he reasoned, spent most summer days out of doors anyway and, on really murderous days, we could go to the park for a swim in the pool, or splash in the spray from the hose in the back yard. He, on the other hand, had to stay in his office and work. His air conditioned office.