The meteorologists are bidding lowball predictions. It will be 100 today, the cheery weatherman says.
The temperature was actually 102.
I have never drunk so much iced tea in my life. Lemon Lift, Earl Grey, even Lapsang Souchang, which isn’t recommended for iced tea. I make a big pot of tea and then pour it on ice. I love the click and sizzling melt of the ice cubes.
I add lemon.
Sometimes comfort can be as simple as ice cubes.
I love my refrigerator. I love my freezer. I need more ice cube trays. I don’t have enough of them.
I took a container of iced tea sans ice to my relative in the nursing home today. I went to the nursing station.
“Excuse me, could we please have a cup of ice? I brought iced tea.”
The aides always fetch ice for us. But today a new employee, or maybe a sub, sat behind the desk. She said no.
“Go back to the room and push the call button.”
The lounge is right around the corner from the nursing station, but they won’t let me get the ice myself. Push the call button and it might take 20 minutes. I can’t leave until they bring the ice. She will just sit there with her warm drink and not drink and not ask for what she wants.
Ice, please. Just a small refrigerator in her room. But there’s no room.
She and I have each, in our own way, given up. They bring her a sippy cup with ice every morning. Then it melts all day. And it doesn’t occur to her that she is supposed to scoop it into her glass. For one thing, there’s no spoon.
After a lifetime of picky instructions to waitresses, she is finally passive. After a lifetime of pushing to get my way–I got Ken Kesey’s autograph some years ago by ducking under a rope at a Merry Pranksters event–I am finally passive.
The system depends on who is working. And you want to push a little, but not too much, because you don’t know if they’ll take it out on her later.
It’s like the time in fourth grade when she complained to my teacher when I got a B instead of an A in geography. For the rest of the year, the teacher humiliated me by asking, “Are your grades good enough for your mother?”
So I rush in with cold drinks–if they’re still cold after my bike ride–and try to get her to drink them immediately.
But of course that doesn’t usually happen, because she drinks when she wants to drink.
So I finally find someone to get the ice.
I was a little nervous when I got home to learn on the news that an iceberg twice the size of Manhattan broke off the Petermann glacier in Greenland. Another big iceberg broke off from the same glacier in 2010.
According to an NPR story, Ted Scambos, lead scientist at the National Snow and Ice Data Center in Boulder, Colo., said, “If it continues, and more of the Petermann is lost, the melting would push up sea levels. The ice lost so far was already floating, so the breaks don’t add to global sea levels.”
I don’t think “it” will happen in my lifetime. I hope they can reverse “it” by using alternative fuels. But if they turn to nuclear power, I’m going to protest and ask that they keep using coal. Watch The China Syndrome if you don’t remember Three Mile Island, Chernobyl, and other smaller accidents. (The China Syndrome was actually released before Three Mile Island.)
There’s a lot of ice, but I’m not threatened by it. At least it’s fiction.