Making Ice

I was making myself a glass of Iced Tea to bring to work, this morning, and getting the ice out of the freezer made me miss Gram Rodgers quite a bit.

She used to come visit my house for a week or two in the heat of the summer, because I have air conditioning and my mom doesn't. I loved having her over. We had quite a routine, especially when the kids were little and I wasn't working or running all over the place.

Most every morning, she and I would wake up and have a cup of hot tea. We would sit at the kitchen table and read the newspaper and she would usually eat something like toast and applesauce. After breakfast, we would both get dressed. She would ask me what I wanted her to do, and I would tell her "Sit and rest." She didn't like that idea much. She would always make the ice cubes for the day, and I told her that was her job. She would also start the iced tea for the day. We would discuss what we should make for dinner. And then at 10 o'clock, she'd say, "10 o'clock already! Time for tea!" and we'd sit right back down at the table and chat some more.

It wasn't always exactly like this... but that was the feel of it. Lazy, relaxed, and lovely.

I wonder what she would have thought about the new freezer with the automatic ice machine. I didn't get one until after she died. Making the ice was HER job. The freezer was full of ice when she was around -- she made it all day, emptying and refilling the trays. I never got around to it when she wasn't there, and we often ran out of ice.