19 May 2016 Thanksgiving in the summer
by Vivian Lawson Hogue
Sometimes I have Thanksgiving during the summer because I am so grateful for our 22-year-old refrigerator. It gets crowded during growing seasons when there are bags of eggplants, cucumbers, tomatoes and figs. One learns the logic of grocery store stocking — latest picking at the back, earliest in the front. Otherwise there are bags of slimy vegetables. The feelings of guilt over being wasteful are bad enough, but you can only have the same produce so many times a week.
We all take our refrigerators for granted, especially if they have ice makers or ice dispensers in the door. The ice never stops being made unless “The Wire” is left up. We’re free to tumble some out at will, caring not about supply and demand. In the freezer section, we can keep ice cream and other foods and even an ice bag for boo-boos.
For years, we had a small chest freezer that was a fearsome thing. There was no way to stock it in some order. Everything dropped to the bottom. When diving for something, I would inform someone of my whereabouts. “I’m going in!” I would shout. I would hoist myself up on the open edge and lower my upper body downward into the depths. Aided by a flashlight and looking for a mere package of baby Brussels sprouts, I might find it and perhaps a pair of glasses from a previous search.
I was thankful to have it, but we finally purchased a wonderful upright version. It is bigger, and as expected, it is full. It really doesn’t matter if one has a 5-cubic-foot or a walk-in freezer, it will be full.
This one, however, is stocked in an orderly fashion. Meat or frozen vegetables or pecans the squirrels allowed us to have are labeled and stored. My gratitude extends to my miraculous food sealer, too. I seal, label and stock items myself, and they can remain there for possibly years before cooking!
I’m sure my mother was grateful for her “modern conveniences,” too. With a family of seven at first, right on up to their empty nest, she somehow made do with a 1940 General Electric “icebox.” The term was left over from days when block ice was actually delivered to one’s home and placed in a metal container in the appliance. Mother had one of those earlier, and would leave a note to the ice man about how much to bring.
In her more “modern” version, the one I knew best, there was in the upper right hand corner a small compartment that was the “freezer.”
Although the entire appliance was still called an “icebox,” that was a misnomer, as ice was not its strongest feature. The “freezer” was big enough for four ice trays; five if you stacked them precariously. Sometimes she removed the dividers and made ice cream. It was the devil to pay, though, if anyone emptied a tray and left it out. One couldn’t do anything worse.
The icebox had wire shelves and two side-by-side metal drawers at the bottom. Since there was little room on shelves, she left cooked foods we had for lunch on the dinner table covered with a dish towel or tablecloth, and we would have them again for supper. It seems odd that for generations this was the pattern, and most lived to tell it.
I am thankful for all of our appliances, both great and small. The dishwasher, mixer, blender, food steamer, my 1950s working toaster — they all get workouts very often. And we still eat leftovers. If you’re in our house, you’re welcome to them any time . . . just go look on the table under the dish cloth. Tea is in the fridge in the green-glass prune juice bottle.
A native of Conway, Vivian Lawson Hogue graduated from the University of Central Arkansas with a degree in art education. A retired teacher, she worked in the Conway School District for 23 years. She is editor of the Faulkner County Historical Society’s semi-annual publication, “Faulkner Facts and Fiddlings.” She can be reached at [email protected].
