Livin' Out Here on "The Leelanau": Home, or back home?

[Stir Young]

It was sticky hot yesterday, when I got home from work.....hot and humid.  

Its been one of those kinds of summers, alright.  The fans in the house were moving hot air around.  Jacques Young the cat and Monae Young, his sister, were listless, and sprawled out on the floor trying to catch some relief.

I went outside about 7:00, clad only in a pair of old cargo shorts, and sat on the front stoop.  I like the term stoop.  It was used more when I was a kid, I think.  I don't really have a porch...its too small.  I have a stoop.

The sky had clouded over quickly, and thunder was rumbling to the north.

As I sat there, summertime memories of growing up in a post World War II tract house on Dornell Avenue came rushing back.

The summers back then always seemed to be hot and humid.  The cheaply built houses in our neighborhood were like hot boxes by the time early evening rolled around, and people slowly came out of them them, onto their stoops to sit.  Sitting on the stoop was a pastime, a ritual, a routine, especially for the adults.

Sometimes we would use the garden hose to spray water on our roof.  My mother said that's what people did to cool the houses down, when she lived in Southern California.

Gradually, as the sun moved to the west, the mosquitoes started coming out, and we would move back inside.  When we went to bed, it would still be hot and humid.  Sleep came and went, off and on.  With all the windows open, we could hear the constant, rhythmic banging of the drop forge that was located about a mile or so away from us.  That went on all night long.

Yes, the summers back then always seemed to be hot and humid when I was growing up.  That's how I remember it.

As I sat on my stoop last evening, those memories came flooding back.  I sat there until large spatters of rain drove me back inside.  The thunder stayed to the north.....the summer storm was passing by me.  For all the racket going on in the sky, very little rain actually fell.

This morning the humidity had left, and the temperature had dropped.  

They predict that it will get hotter again tomorrow.

Maybe some more childhood memories will return tomorrow, too. 

[Clod Hopper]

afterds i been out choppin tobaccer n hangin it up in the barn to dry moren one time i wood sit on ma porch with sum likker n the nex day be dee hi drated

[EddieDingo]

Good to see you Stir.

[D. D. Olson]

It seems that the heat was easier to take back in the old days.    Or maybe I'm lucky enough to have selective memory.

[Slim]

I sort of like the smell of cigarettes while sitting on a porch.  Just a whiff.

[Stir Young]

I remember that too, NN, it was a pastime for most of the men, and some of the women too.  I remember the neighborhood folks listening outside in the evenings, drinking beer, and smoking cigarettes.

[Northport Newbie]

I'm glad you recaptured this, Stir! I remember the sound of baseball on my dad's radio and playing on the sidewalk in the summer.