There are few words to describe the heat of a southern Ohio summer. Visiting home these past few days reminds me of the power of heat in the nineties with a heat index that pushes the experience into the one hundreds. I know there are places where it is hotter, more humid, but the last two days have reminded me why people are meant to slow down, rest, drink plenty of ice cold(sugary) drinks and take an afternoon nap……it takes a lot of energy to exist in the heat!

I have fond memories of my great-grandfather’s farm,especially in summer. It stood in the middle of a large plot of land, cornfields for as far as the eye could see. The approach to it was a long lane that was flanked by a canopy trees. The house itself was a fairly traditional two story white farmhouse. Behind the house stood the "out buildings"….the chicken coop where I would help collect eggs, a shed for feed, a two seater-outhouse, all facing a grape arbor that spanned the length of all the buildings. I loved running down the path of that arbor….vines and grapes climbing high above my head…..it felt the main aisle of a grand cathedral.

But the best building of all was the summer kitchen. It stood at the entrance to the arbor, white wood, a screen door that creaked and slapped shut as people came in and out. In the summer kitchen, was a wood-fed green and yellow cookstove and an icebox. The purpose of the summer kitchen was to keep the house cool during hot, humid, southern Ohio days so sleeping would be easier. Children and adults would sit around the table, talking, drinking sweaty glasses of sweet iced tea and eating a hot midday meal…..another tradition despite the wisdom of such a meal. Then at some point in the afternoon, my cousin and I would be taken inside for naps, our bodies exhausted with running and playing in the heat. My napping place was the daybed in the dining room. From it I could see my great-grandfather’s brown horehair chair in a corner of the living room. Next to his chair was the rack with his pipes and the smell of cherry tobacco wafted into where I was to begin my afternoon sleep. I remember feeling like a princess on that bed.

Microwaves have now replaced a summer kitchen and people don’t eat a hot meal at noon in summer, if ever. But the need to slow down, to give in to the heat of a summer day, still has its appeal and wisdom. There will be many days ahead for striving, for getting things done, for seeing how many hours of work can be packed into a single day. But for now, I plan to drink plenty of iced tea, read a good book, let me eyes flutter a bit in the heat and finally give in to a nap. Seems the sensible thing to do.