It’s said that when General Philip Henry Sheridan marched the Union Army into Texas during the War of Northern Agression, he remarked,
“If I owned Hell and Texas I would rent out Texas and live in Hell.”
I believe the good General must have experienced our Texas hospitality in August (or June, or July, or September…heck maybe even October). Yep, it gets “purty durned hot” in the Lone Star State, and stays that way! Some of y’all are still fighting snow, and I’m withering in the heat like a two day old salad.
I’ve decided as I get older that I don’t like the heat we have here in the summer. I’m not all that fond of the cold weather, either, but I can add clothing and bundle up. The problem with summer heat, I’ve discovered, is that there is only so much clothing that a woman my age can remove without being indecent!
I don’t know that it’s ever been said that I’m “decent,” but my Momma would roll over in her grave if I stripped down like some of these young girls do. I just can’t allow myself to go out in public like that. Which isn’t to say I don’t run around the house half nekkid, so don’t surprise me by coming knocking on my front door! We might both turn as red as a baboon’s behind.
In my younger years, we didn’t have central heat and air conditioning (though when it came around, we were one of the first in the neighborhood to get it, because Daddy was an electrical contractor). We had “window units,” which only cooled one room in the house. Mamaw and Papaw had “water coolers” which only cooled the area immediately in front of them. Windows and doors (we had screen doors back then) were kept open, though often drapes were drawn to keep out the sunshine. Oscillating fans were in every room.
Those oscillating fans were a delight. When we came in from the outdoors, all dripping in sweat, we got in front of the fans and wiggled around flapping our shirts to try to dry off and cool ourselves. I guess you’d call it a “fan dance.”
Years ago, I started collecting a few oscillating fans…the old ones like I remember having back then. Imagine my surprise when I met my husband and discovered that he also had a collection of fans! I love having them going, but mine don’t have very good guards over the blades, so I’m always terrified that one of my long-tailed cats is going to become an accidental Manx cat. One of them is going to rub up against a fan and pull back a nub!
My favorite fan that we have is a hassock fan that my husband repaired. He had it out in the garage, and I confess that I wasn’t too impressed by it. Years ago, he bought it at a garage sale for a dollar. It was rusty, and the top was broken. But, he repaired the top, restored the motor, even re-worked the logo on the top.
It looks like it just stepped out of a Montgomery Ward’s catalogue in the 1950s!
The last few days while I have been working on crocheted afghans for Share A Square, I’ve had that fan whirring beside me. I’d much rather listen to its hum than the noise on the television set.
I must admit that I don’t really have to use those fans (though with rising energy costs, they will be a help). However there are folks out there who are in desperate need of them. In Austin, there is a program called Family Eldercare that tries to help by collecting fans to distribute.
In fact, if you are feeling altruistic, you probably could find an agency in your area that will accept donations of new fans (or contributions) to distributed to low-income elders, persons with disabilities and families with young children living on a fixed income. That would be a cool donation! Those fans are lifesavers. Literally. People, our Texas heat can and does kill.
I think that General Sheridan was probably taking it a little too far in his remark. I’ll take Texas over Hell any day of the week. I’m told that the beer is hot down there, there is no bacon, and you have to sit still and listen to William Shatner “sing.”
Texas is sounding better all the time.
