It’s early in the morning and already I can tell it’s going to be a scorcher. Fingers stick to the keyboard and ‘t’ gets left off the word ‘the’ frequently, as the ordinary rhythm of my typing is affected by the humidity.
That word “scorcher” probably isn’t in the dictionary, but is a real Maine expression. We natives seem to have our own language and whole books have been written on the subject. I’ve noticed that with the influx of so many “from away,” though, that our peculiarities of language are being melded. Even my old friends from New Jersey are now talking like a Mainer – or is it the other way around?
On a particularly hot day, one of my window fans died and I forced myself to go buy a new one. That was quite a trip, since two of our local stores didn’t have any fans at all. If I had wanted some huge gallon-size plastic drinking utensils with attached straws the size of a hose, I could have had those for a bargain price. Summer items, on the shelf for all of six weeks, are being moved aside for Halloween masks.
At one store, I saw a dozen tall cylindrical fan-things, but also found a box which contained a window fan. As I tossed it into the cart, one clerk said they had just gotten a whole shipment in, but she walked away before I could ask her where the rest of them were; meanwhile, another clerk (or associate) asked me where I had found the fan – he said he hadn’t had any for months. Apparently there’s a lack of communication within the department.
There’s no problem with communication from other sources, however. So far in a week I’ve received six mailings from insurance companies and one from Social Security Administration, all dealing with the new Medicare prescription drug ‘benefit’ – the one which will cost $37 a month to have available – even if it’s not used.
There has been the usual complement of unsolicited phone calls, as well, offering everything from “the best solution” to “guaranteed benefits for you, Mrs. Soldat.” Most of these communicators can’t spell my last name (Soldier) and for some unexplained reason, have trouble pronouncing it. Given the frequent updates on our military, it seems that “soldier” should be easy to remember.
As a local history buff, I get several queries a week about old houses and old families and these are fairly easy to research. Recently, though, I was asked about the ice house which used to be on Highland Lake (Ice House Road comes to mind). A local artist seeks a picture of the ice house. If any reader has any information on this little nugget of Windham’s past, please drop a note to me in care of this paper.
See you next week.
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