If you hadn’t noticed, it’s been pretty hot lately. I suppose I could do the “It’s been so hot that…” jokes, but I don’t think we need to be reminded that we are uncomfortable. Nowadays, we go from air conditioned house to air conditioned car to air conditioned store. So unless we venture outside for some reason, we really don’t suffer too much; we just pay the electric bill. I have plants and trees to take care of, so I do brave the heat and do my chores. After all, I spend all winter complaining about how cold it is, and now I sit inside in air conditioned comfort.
What did we do before air conditioning? I couldn’t tell you; I guess we just survived.
I have a couple of updates. My cooking mess was resolved by a kind email message suggesting I use the refried bean/chili/wiener concoction as the base for a Taco salad type dish by putting some corn chips in a bowl dump the mixture in after adding some Mexican flavoring to the glop. I did that, and it turned out pretty tasty and I finished it off in two sittings. I took a digestive system break of a couple days between this unnamed south of the border delicacy. Ole!
My late wife used to say that many times botched recipes turn out to be tasty dishes. I find that to be true, but this was a little too extreme and perhaps dangerous to one’s stomach, so I think we’ll forget about it for future meals.
My ironing went fine with no burns to fabric or human skin. As I mentioned, the modern steam iron makes the task easier than just a red hot iron on dampened clothes as was done in days past. As I set up the ironing board, however, I thought maybe those clothes might make a good donation to the local Salvation Army store.
Speaking of ironing, if you’re older, do you remember the mangle for ironing large items? The Twin Cities’ daily newspaper that I read has a feature section in which readers write about various experiences. Since it seems that a majority of readers seem to be of the older variety, there are many stories about “The good old days.” (Having lived through some of them, I question that description.) Recently, readers have been writing in about experiences ironing, especially with mangles. Many of them agreed with what I always thought; that “Mangle” was the perfect name for this hot roller of a machine. It was quite easy for some inexperienced mangler to run her arm through this hot monster of a machine. There were no guards or warning labels on mangles in those days, so when you were ironing the sheets (no kidding) your mother yelling “Watch your hands!” was it. Of course, males didn’t usually do ironing, so I only watched my grandmother operate ours, but I’ve always been fascinated by machines of any kind and the mangle was right in our house.
There have been a lot of obituaries in the papers lately, so unfortunately, I guess, the widow(er) population is growing. As I keep mentioning, there are many younger widow(er)s out there, so be kind to them.
If you have comments or suggestions, I’m at firstname.lastname@example.org .