But that was a long while ago, and we've learned better how to regulate that kind of heat. We are a little more cautious now than before.
There is a good reason things in the south slow down in July and August. Heavy heat and humidity make for heavy shoulders and limbs. Breathing slows down and gets shallow; and heaven help you if you forget to drink plenty of liquids.
As a child my family and I drove for two days each summer from the cool mountain air of Appalachia to see alligators and rattle snakes, and visit small orange juice stands with soda fountains and jungle posters and to vacation for a week in sunny Florida. The car was not air conditioned, not coming nor going. The windows were all open, of course, blowing in plenty of hot air.
The paradise part of those trips was when we stopped at a roadside stand to eat a huge, bright red, cold slice of watermelon. I was five years old, and no one cared how much it dripped or ran down our arms.
Watermelon has never been more sweet, nor the seeds as black.
I have a special drink that I fix during this season that keeps me alive in the same way as that watermelon, though not quite as joyfully. Here it is:
100 per cent fruit juice of some kind (my favorite is apple)
A sugar syrup I make from celery seed