It’s been a long time since I’ve tried to sleep without air conditioning. Why is it that the A/C has to wait until mid-July to conk out? Couldn’t it have done this in April???
But, as I notice the little runnels of sweat forming on the back of my neck, I can commiserate with Rose. Summer is a hot and sticky time of year. Sometimes, we of the A/C generation forget that.
Not that I’ve always had air conditioning. No, you young whippersnappers;
We take lighting for granted.
The sun goes down; we flip a switch. Instant illumination. Sure, sometimes the power goes off and we have to “rough it.” Candles or hurricane lamps for a few hours, a couple of days, sometimes longer if you live on the Gulf Coast and it’s hurricane season (there’s a reason they’re called hurricane lamps).
And while urban America was almost completely electrified (eek! that sounds painful) by 1929, it would be well into the mid-30s, and even the early 40s, before electric power found its way to the farms.
So poor Rose
Although not many of you played, I should, in all fairness, give the answers to the recent Pop Quiz. Continue reading
Memorial Day weekend is upon us. And chances are your plans involve an adult beverage. Or two.
If that’s the case, how about taking a moment or two to thank the resourceful bootleggers of the 1920s for the cocktail that you’re mixing. After all, it’s because of them, and the fact that their alcohol was often sub-par and bitter, that cocktails became trendy in the first place.
I’ll wait while you get your Gin Rickey ready…
1920s Gin Rickey
Squeeze the juice of one-half lime into a highball glass, then drop the lime shell in the glass. Add two ounces gin, then fill with ice. Top with the sparkling mineral water and stir.
*if you want to make your rickey a bit more patriotic, add a few blueberries and swap out the decorative mint for a flag
Okay. Everybody ready? Rickey’s up… and Cheers! Have a great Memorial Day weekend.
Oh. Sorry. I dozed off there.
Maybe that should be Boring Engine instead of Engine Boring? Research takes you down some interesting rabbit holes (like this little tidbit about housework and good posture) and some not so exciting ones. Engine boring displacement, in case you weren’t sure, falls into the latter. (Unless you’re into NASCAR.)
But, when writing about bootlegging, and your main character is a crack mechanic, it just makes sense Continue reading
You probably didn’t realize it was Pop Quiz day.
Or thought that you had outgrown that particular form of hell when you graduated from high school.
Turns out, life is a daily Pop Quiz, of one sort or another. (But this particular quiz won’t be painful, I promise.) Continue reading
Yikes! That’s not from the 1930s!!!
And yet, that first line expresses Harold’s sentiments perfectly.
In the late twenties and early thirties, there seemed to be two main pastimes: dancing and going to the pictures (and even the picture shows featured dancing). Practically every little town hosted a Friday or Saturday night dance… in the armory, in a barn, at a local church, wherever space allowed.
Imagine how that would be for a fella with two left feet! Especially since Rose loves to dance. Poor Harold. Even the “simple” dances of the era–foxtrot, waltz, castle walk–were challenging. But that didn’t stop him. If dancing was what Rose wanted, well… Continue reading
It’s ironic that I just posted about radios because Rose is having a radio moment of her own. There’s a certain amount of chemistry between her and Charlie, and she’s having a devil of a time fighting it… Continue reading
As you read this, I am without cell signal and internet, deep in the remotest reaches of the world, otherwise known as East Texas. So, I’ve been thinking a bit about what folk’s in Rose’s time did to unwind after a hard day in Continue reading
This morning I started a load of laundry, then came upstairs to work on this blog post. In a minute, I’ll go downstairs, move the load to the dryer, then enjoy thirty minutes of reading while I wait for the clothes to dry. Another fifteen minutes to fold and Voila! Laundry Complete.
Can I tell you… Rose is more than a little jealous of me. Not only does her wash day routine take longer than two hours, every bit of which is spent on her feet, there’s not a blasted book in sight anywhere.
No, if ever there was a chore designed to make a poor farm wife wish she’d never left her posh upper-middle class life, laundry is it!
And no wonder. Just look at all the steps involved, Continue reading