Wednesday, December 10, 2008


The temperature down in the LOW corner as I type says 30 degrees---freezing outside. Would that the inner ice be so. Our little ice-maker, a sturdy little white box, quarter-size of the fridge, and my very favorite-appliance-of-my-life after any and all air conditioners I have known---is not well right now.

Huffs and huhhh!’s and shallowing of the deep drifts, down to clear and wet and sparse, then the last cubes were gone before Curtis-the-Iceman arrived this morning. Yesterday, I did the old Southern trick---boil the water, pour over the bags in the pot, then pour the steeped tea into the big plastic pitcher for snugging into the freezer until suppertime.

My usual practice is to fill the pitcher with more-ice-than-water, drift in a flurry of Sweet N Low, and then pour on the hothot tea. I seldom put cubes into my own glass; I love the great slooooosh of the pour as the cubes and tea cascade into the glass.

So Chris hovers, watching, learning, as Curtis repairs, explains, teaches while he works. Chris did the cleaning day-before-yesterday, but that did not do the trick; it seems that the what-cooks-would-call-a-guitar thingie that melts its screen-way through the sheet to make it into the neat cubes was not heating properly.

And soon it will be, Curtis promises. And the problem with the freezing was the need for heat. Who’d a thought. The guys have discussed computers, photography, whether Curtis has time to stay for grits-and-eggs when he’s finished. When I heard that Southern accent on the speakerphone as he called to say he was on his way---I KNEW he was a G.R.I.T.S. Guy. He has the slow warm courtesy of the young men of my youth, of countless friends-over-for-supper when my boys were growing up. It’s the Man-way of treating older ladies, the “Yes, Ma’am” and the “I’d be glad to have a coffee refill,” when a cup was offered.

And now he’s packing up to go, pouring and sugaring and getting ready to go to the rescue of other iceless beings. He’s from the South. He UNDERSTANDS.

Curtis the Iceman Goeth, and the world has clicked back into place, once again.


Keetha said...

Whew. Thank goodness for Curtis. What would iced tea be without the ice?

Mrs. G. said...

Score for Curtis!

racheld said...

AWWWW! Y'all took time from your busy days to come visit!!!

And Mrs. G.---I know how busy you've been, so that makes it a special honor. I truly DO hope your Sweetie is soon jumping with a pie!!