Katie at The Logonauts hosts Poetry Friday today. Come visit Katie and all the other poetry sharing!
Yesterday
My grandfather brought a
block of ice
from the ice house,
put it in a granite tub,
placed a fan just so.
He managed breeze-cooling AC in the
kitchen
as my grandmother canned the
beans.
Summer love-note.
Linda Baie ©All Rights
Reserved
26 comments:
That's a love note from the heart, all right. Wonderful to remember!
Aw, that is sweet. My hubby brings me ice packs when I ache. That is love in the small moments.
I can definitely relate to your poem. It reminds me of my maternal grandparents who were immigrants to this country. My Dzidzi kept a wonderful garden in back of their house...and my Babci canned all kinds of vegetables--including tomatoes and beets
So beautiful, Linda - I love the simplicity of the act, the love it spoke of...and old fashioned AC.
Thanks, Tabatha. It is a good memory.
Indeed it is, Brenda. Thanks!
That "canning season" was hard, and hot, work. Glad to hear your memories, too, Elaine.
Thanks, Tara. My grandfather was a loving man.
Your poem gave me goosebumps, Linda! (and not from my central AC blasting above me). What a profound act of love captured in your sweet poem.
Thanks, Bridget. It's a clear memory, and the heat blasting us lately brought it. Just think of those who dd so much cooking, and other work, too, without AC. And then many in the world still without it. My grandfather was a thoughtful man.
Linda: This is a lovely memory, and I'm so glad you shared it. It reminds me of a particular hot summer in Omaha, all us kids sleeping on the living room floor with our new oscillating fan doing its best to keep us cool, Mama handing out lemonade.
Those fans saved us, didn't they? Thanks for your memory, Karen!
What a wonderful memory... love shared made it a beautiful time! "Love notes." I like that! Your poem has me looking for "love notes" in my memories.
Thank you, Alice. I liked that idea, too, those brief sweet moments that we cherish.
Your poem brought back memories of my grandmother. She canned all kinds of vegetables, made jellies, jams, and even rhubarb wine. She was a hardworking woman. Your poem was the perfect reminder!
I remember snapping bushels of beans and keeping track each summer of how many quarts we canned. It was hot, hard work, but I have such memories of being in those kitchens with my aunts, mother, and grandmother.
Thanks, Linda, I think many of us have similar memories of those hot kitchens and canning.
Me, too, Ramona. They worked very hard! Thanks!
Linda, your simple description of the "technology," with all the effort it implies on the parts of both your grandparents, is a small window onto a wide world of how it used to be. Your final line brings the emotion. One of your best!
I found a Kay Ryan poem about green beans yesterday too, right after we ate the first green beans from my microgarden. Can I use your poem in a green bean post?
Love is shown in so many ways...
I would be honored to share in the "green bean" celebration. What a wonderful idea. Thanks, and will look forward to it!
Thanks, Donna, it really is those small things that make life nice.
Awesome! Especially love the last line.
Thanks, Katie! And for hosting, too!
What a great memory!
I'm catching up late on last Friday's poems. This one feels like a snapshot, but it's more than visual. Your poem is filled with rich sensory images.
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