Sunday, April 8, 2012

Sunday Memories: The Iceman Cometh

Florence's ice trays circa 1960-something

It's quite hard to find ice trays like these anymore.

I had already broken the plastic ones I had. So when the new tenants moved into Florence's new refrigerator and kitchen, I moved these out.

Of all the smattering of items I took from Florence's, these hid unexpected memories.

With so few treats allowed except on Friday nights, ice was as treasured as candy. And with the suspicion of doctors and the fear of hospitals, it was also as important as aspirin.

With such promises of refreshment and restoration, those trays were not to be trifled with.

The trays' handle would be pulled back like a slingshot and if all went well, the ice would crackle and break into cubes. This never happened. Tap water and a couple to many bangs of the tray on the stove loosened the frozen water enough to be enjoyed like ice cream during the summer or placed in a bowl of soup too hot to eat.

If the trays were being deployed for medical emergencies, such as a broken arm or spinal meningitis, the ice bag, the kind you'd see in comic strips like Andy Capp, would be brought out with full and firm belief that once filled from the trays, all maladies would vanish. On the rare occasions they didn't, a surrender would be hurriedly made in a taxi rushing to the emergency room, usually right before it was too late.

Now, refrigerators make ice and preemptive doctor visits make more sense.

And ice bags, needed for healing body parts, come so equipped, they make my old ice trays look like pencil and paper compared to a NASA computer.

The cat thinks the machine is the vacuum cleaner's baby, and thus the spawn of the devil. It is ravenous for ice, which has the Mariner running so frequently to the bodega for ice at all hours of the day and night, that the minute he rushes in the guys automatically ring up two bags of already made, perfectly cubed ice.

Memories may be made from time spent healing, but none will be found in cubes of such perfection. So when this is all over, those trays will be filled again with stories from Her New York.

6 comments:

mybabyjohn/Delores said...

Good grief....what have you done to yourself?

Marty Wombacher said...

Those ice trays brought back lots of memories from my youth as well. I remember struggling with them on hot summer days and nights. Heal quickly and I hope you're back on your feet soon!

c.o. moed said...

Modern knee surgery now has you in and out of the hospital in a couple of hours, stoned out of ones mind and then tethered for days to an ice machine that is fed around the clock, one hopes, by a very patient person who loves you.

All in the name of walking with less pain! soon! in heels! maybe even dancing.

then.... we do the left one!

mybabyjohn/Delores said...

Fingers crossed that you will soon be back dashing across intersections in high heels no less.

Alana said...

those are some really cool ice trays! Heal soon!

Goggla said...

Here's to a swift recovery - and the promise of dancing!