Surrender Dorothy

a good sign from a bad witch (and a bat)

All summer, I’ve had a box fan in my upstairs hallway window. On late-August, mountain nights, it pulls in 55-degree air from outside and billows it into the house like air conditioning. Lovely. Plus it makes a wonderful white noise for sleeping. Until the other night, when the fan sputtered and crunched. I woke to what sounded like someone dumping bobb…