"My advice to you is not to inquire why or whither . . .

. . . but just enjoy your ice cream while it's on your plate."   

Thornton Wilder

If you're a person who likes to get sympathy from others, 
Minnesota is a great place to live.  There's always plenty to complain about, and usually you can back it up with some sensational hard facts. Just last night on the national news, I watched a reporter complain loudly about the weather while standing in our own Lake Harriet -- great press about our plight!

Aunt Lillie would have had a heyday with it.  She always had a malady or conspiracy to worry/complain about, but most of her evidence came from places like the National Enquirer, so it was hard to take her concerns seriously. (I blame her for the genes that contributed to this aspect of my personality.)

Today, however, every meteorologist in the world would likely agree that Minnesota may be THE place on earth where hell actually does freeze over.  That's hard to imagine, of course, because today we are stewing in our own juicy hell.  But we know that this hell will eventually freeze over again, and HARD.

This kind of heat just makes you grateful for the little things, like air-conditioning and ice cubes. 

Having spent plenty of years without them, I appreciate their worth.

Today I'm lucky to find myself in a refrigerated studio with 32 ounces of icy heaven at my fingertips, and yet as I sip my diet Coke I can't help but reminisce . . .

I grew up in a house with a commercial ice cube maker.  Not exactly like you find in a hotel, but it was a stainless steel door in the butler's pantry (I grew up in a house with a butler's pantry -- sadly, no butler) that you opened and behind it was a deep vault of PERFECT ice cubes.  By perfect, I mean the ideal ratio of frozen-ness to melty-ness.  In an ideal size. Exactly right for chewing, should you be so inclined, and not so frozen that when you poured a drink over them you had to wait for a lot of foam to subside. It was one of the highlights of my childhood.

Having spent a little time in the world, I now realize that ice was probably overly important to us. But all I knew then was that I felt great pity for every person on the planet who didn't have perfect ice all the time.

Which left me plenty of room to feel sorry for myself once I moved out, and through a series of bad apartments that were distinctly lacking in cool of all kinds.
Yes, ice was one of the true growth markers 
along my transition to adulthood.

It was a tough day when I realized I was going to have to step up and be responsible for making my own.  And I can state right here that living up to the ice cubes of my youth has been a mostly vain pursuit. There's a pretty gaping hole in the butler's pantry of my life where the ice maker should be.

Since the sale of my parents home in 1987, 
I don't think I've ever experienced another perfect ice cube. 

Some things are ethereal, 
and are never meant to last . . .

On a day like today, all you need to do is step outside and have your glasses fog up immediately to think, "I know why Susan wrote a whole blog post about something dumb like ice." 

Unfortunately, in a few months you will also be able to step outside and have your glasses freeze to your face immediately and think, "Oh no -- Susan is going to write a whole blog post about ice."  

You've been warned.

(Happy Stay-Cool-Monday!)



Lynda Halliger-Otvos said...

This climate in Northern California is amazingly temperate. It’s 65F at 10 am and will not likely break 70 all day. Long pants, long sleeves and shoes with sox are dress of the day 99% of the time. Love it now that I am older and my legs look like my Dad’s for crying out loud !~!

Anonymous said...

"There's a pretty gaping hole in the butler's pantry of my life where the ice maker should be."

My new favorite Susanism!

Thanks for a such funny start to the week.

Karen S said...

ROFL -- I was a little kid when my parents traded in the old pale green fridge on a new *Harvest Brown* model that had an automatic ice maker. My brother and I spent hours with the door open waiting for the ice to fall. Sadly, it always waited until just after we closed the door (which was immediately preceded by my mother hollering, "you kids better not have that freezer door open again!") Thanks for reminding me of that when it is just too hot outside even for me.

Allie said...

ROFL - right there with you girl. I wouldn't mind taking up residence in an ice cube maker at the moment. Have you ever been to Hell, MI? It does freeze over every year. *G* Never been there myself, but they play up the name quite a bit - very touristy spot.

Judy said...

My brother-in-law in Anoka said he mowed the lawn today and worried about dying. I'd say it's time to eat a triple decker cone while taking a cool bath!

Amelia Poll said...

I watched that news report last night and smiled and thought of you... I wasn't smiling because you guys are slowly roasting (or is it poaching since it is so humid there?), but I was smiling because I just knew you'd be writing a blog post about the heat, and that it would be a great read. And you delivered :)

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