Haying tonic

Archiologists I know (inlaws do this work) tend to live by Gatoraide. You think a hay field is hot, try digging in it for hours on end.

But helping the heat problem in the haymow might be a good idea. Giving the hot air somewhere to go, like opening a high window really helps and a big box fan can be worth its weight in gold if it is giving you a breeze while stacking hay inside.

We never did figure out how to make bucking bales comfortable, but usually during haying season we would be out in the field at daybreak and would haul hay as fast as possible until about Noon or 1PM. Then we would go swimming all afternoon and do the same thing the next day. I always hated hauling and stacking in the late afternoon--just too hot! I spent many, many days in my High School years just like that. Good memories!

I don't know about dying from cooling off too quickly---seems like there would be lots of dead Swedes and Finns from running out of saunas and jumping into icy water, but maybe there are.

What I know can land you in a hospital is drinking so much water when you're sweating it out as fast as you can drink it that you wash electrolytes out of your system and your nervous system starts misfiring. My BIL's father did that. That's what the electrolytes in drinks like Gatorade are supposed to take care of. Maybe regular salt would do the same thing, and that's why people used to take salt tablets in high humidity heat. Gatorade is probably mostly better for the Coca Cola Company.

This is pretty far OT, but another thing Gatorade is good for is that it's one of the first things you can hold down when food poisoning, or whatever, makes anything else come right back up.

All the best, Stan

• Switchel

I believe syllabub was a cold-weather drink that had brandy and milk in it, served warm.

As for switchel, around here that was served in abundance during haying time. I remember my uncle telling about a time when he was too young to help with the haying and was being kept in the house to "help" my grandmother (and out of the way of sickles, crimpers, teddders, balers and the like). He was bored, and not a little mad that he couldn't be outside with all of his uncles and cousins, so Grandmother suggested that he make some switchel for his dad. She got the recipe out of the box for him, and he dutifully follwed the directions. When he was done, he took a taste of what he had concocted and it wasn't at all what he expected. Quite the opposite, in fact. But, still a little mad about being sequestered in the house and away from the excitement, he thought he'd serve it to Grandfather as a prank. He got some chips of ice from the icehouse to chill the mixture even more, and then waved to his father to call him over for a refreshing beverage. Gramp took the glass, and as he took the first sip, my uncle waited for him to screw his face up and grimace at the awful tonic. Instead, the glass was drained to the bottom and returned with a smile and a sincere thank-you. My uncle returned to the kitchen shaking his head, as small children do when they can't understand the ways of adults.

He has since said that he cannot stand the taste of switchel to this day!

Good to see the recipe posted above; think I'll mix up a batch, since it's near-90 and awful humid here today. I'll be sure to raise a tall, cool glass to Gramp and Uncle Stover!

-- Maine Fordson