QUENCHING SUMMER HEAT

Some of my prior posts have mentioned my spending summers as a young boy at our family's modest lake cottage in Indiana. In particular, I have fondly recalled the cold, fresh well water that flowed from the old green hand pump hanging over the kitchen sink.

On hot August days, when the sun roasted all who ventured outdoors, more intensely when it reflected off the sandy ground, the old green hand pump yielded refreshing, cold water. It restored our energy while we hibernated indoors to thumb through pages of old issues of Life and Saturday Evening Post magazines or to snooze to a crackling radio buzzing country music about forsaken love from some forsaken station.

But, when temperatures soared to 95 degrees, there were times when cold, fresh water and indoors captivity really did not seem do it for me. Those were the times when I had to convince my mother that we needed to walk about 2 miles, in the heat, to the local grocery store for provisions. So, then I would pull my radio flyer red wagon and we would walk.

The store was perched on the main highway, a two lane pavement with limited traffic, mostly Studebakers made in South Bend. The grocery sported a large blue and white metal sign reading "Royal Blue", which covered much of the peeling paint side of the small frame building. Thus, we always referred to "going to the Royal Blue" when grocery hunting was the mission of the day. One entered through a screen door that squeaked loudly and slammed shut with such a loud thunder that elderly customers would palpitate. Across the middle of the screen door was a metal push plate that read "Rainbow Bread" with a picture of a loaf of white bread in a colorful wrapper. I always remarked to myself that I had never heard of that brand, but then we were in Indiana.

As my mother busied herself among the small aisles of canned goods, I beelined to the low freezer chest near the door bulging with tempting frozen treats. Yes, there were the twin popsicles(R) in different flavors waiting to be grabbed by thirsty hands. They were actually two popsicles(R) on separate sticks, but stuck together. However, experience taught that I should avoid these, as they always would melt prematurely in the hot walk home, drizzling over my face and shirt and producing sticky hands--leaving me hot and thirsty all over again after a few short steps.

Instead, I reached for the prize, the ultimate thirst quencher and heat remedy--a fudgsicle(R). This treat is chocolatey, thick, and most important, melts more slowly on the tongue--making for a more satisfying and cleaner walk home in the heat.

The irony, of course, is that any delicious frozen sweet treat generally seems to provide only temporary relief from 95 degree summer sunshine. When we arrived back at the cottage, I was hot and sweaty all over again from the long walk and pulling a much heavier wagon. The first thing I did was to beeline to the old, green hand pump and gulp a large glass of cold, fresh--and quenching--water.