For the last few days, I’ve been recalling a front-page cartoon that the Chicago Tribune ran every October, celebrating what used to be called Indian Summer: top half showed a youngster and his/her grandpa gazing out at a field of bundled cornstalks [not wrapped in white plastic like nowadays]. Bottom half showed them after sundown looking at a field of teepees with imagined native Americans moving around among them…at least that’s the way I recall it from way back in the late ’40s.
My mother developed silver grey hair in her late 30s, until her mother died. Then she began dying it to a “fake” brown. I disliked it a lot and used to tease her that she looked like a painted lady. Nevertheless, she persisted until she was near 80, and then her hair was pure white. It was gorgeous.
We live in north-central Pennsylvania…lots of chicken barns/hatcheries. One has a load of solar panels on it, and I’ve often been tempted to stop and ask if he’d thought of putting in air-conditioning provided by solar. We have gotten a lot of double-yolked eggs for free from the parents of a friend of ours.
Me three