I feel so guilty if I complain about the heat.
It’s stifling in here.
Can you believe how hot it is?
The humidity is just oppressive these last few days.
Who can work on a day like this?
Every single time I hear myself complain, I think about my grandparents. They never complained about the stifling weather. If you wandered over to their house on one of those oppressive days, you would find them sitting in their darkened living room….Pop-Pop in his rocker by the radio and Nanny in her big easy chair. One would be reading, the other stitching, waiting for the sun to dip towards the horizon so they could continue their outside work. It would be quiet….just the whirring of the fan as it swept back and forth, moving the hot air in a pattern across the room. The fan would sit precariously on the top of the desk; large, black metal, with open blades. You instinctively knew not to reach up to feel that air moving. How many of us remember hearing at least once, those ridiculous words, “Do you WANT to lose a finger?” Nope, not me? I preferred to preserve my digits….so I NEVER reached up to feel that cooler air. Well, maybe just the once.
They never complained. They kept the most sumptuous vegetable garden at the bottom of the orchard. It grew an abundance of vegetables; enough to can for the coming year for several households. Beautiful corn, beans, tomatoes, cucumbers, squash, onions, carrots blueberries, blackberries, rhubarb and the most gorgeous arbors of grapes. On those stifling days, when there was no hope of rain you would find them carrying bucket after bucket of water from the side of the house, across the driveway, through the orchard, to those tidy rows of fruits and vegetables. I am sure in later years they were able to run hoses down to the garden…but my memory is of this back and forth process with their bucket brigade. No moaning, no groaning. Just occasionally Pop-Pop would take out his worn, red bandana, mop his forehead, shove it back in his pocket and continue the process.
In their bedroom was a small window fan. One side of the fan sucked the hot air out, while the other brought the cooler air in. It was small and it was inefficient; a precursor of more modern units. But to them it was a wonder of modern day appliances. They marveled at its effectiveness in cooling down their oppressively hot bedroom.
With a memory as clear as this of a 50’s style automatic sprinkling system and their modern day air cooling system, how on earth can I complain about the heat?
It’s stifling in here.
Can you believe how hot it is?
The humidity is just oppressive these last few days.
Who can work on a day like this?
Every single time I hear myself complain, I think about my grandparents. They never complained about the stifling weather. If you wandered over to their house on one of those oppressive days, you would find them sitting in their darkened living room….Pop-Pop in his rocker by the radio and Nanny in her big easy chair. One would be reading, the other stitching, waiting for the sun to dip towards the horizon so they could continue their outside work. It would be quiet….just the whirring of the fan as it swept back and forth, moving the hot air in a pattern across the room. The fan would sit precariously on the top of the desk; large, black metal, with open blades. You instinctively knew not to reach up to feel that air moving. How many of us remember hearing at least once, those ridiculous words, “Do you WANT to lose a finger?” Nope, not me? I preferred to preserve my digits….so I NEVER reached up to feel that cooler air. Well, maybe just the once.
They never complained. They kept the most sumptuous vegetable garden at the bottom of the orchard. It grew an abundance of vegetables; enough to can for the coming year for several households. Beautiful corn, beans, tomatoes, cucumbers, squash, onions, carrots blueberries, blackberries, rhubarb and the most gorgeous arbors of grapes. On those stifling days, when there was no hope of rain you would find them carrying bucket after bucket of water from the side of the house, across the driveway, through the orchard, to those tidy rows of fruits and vegetables. I am sure in later years they were able to run hoses down to the garden…but my memory is of this back and forth process with their bucket brigade. No moaning, no groaning. Just occasionally Pop-Pop would take out his worn, red bandana, mop his forehead, shove it back in his pocket and continue the process.
In their bedroom was a small window fan. One side of the fan sucked the hot air out, while the other brought the cooler air in. It was small and it was inefficient; a precursor of more modern units. But to them it was a wonder of modern day appliances. They marveled at its effectiveness in cooling down their oppressively hot bedroom.
With a memory as clear as this of a 50’s style automatic sprinkling system and their modern day air cooling system, how on earth can I complain about the heat?
3 comments:
Wow. I don't remember the grapes. Where were they?
Do you remember the glass pot of real iced tea Nanny always had ready? She had to strain it to keep those tiny little tea leaves from pouring into the glass.
Thanks for the memories.
Yeah I should start getting on my hands and knees in front of my AC unit. I'm a lucky person!
And I still bitch and moan about the heat.
I'm sad.
....I remember the bench nestled next to an apple tree to take a break after picking the string beans. ahhhhhh.
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