Books and Heat and Oats

Hello, books! I was doubly pleased when the postlady knocked on my door this afternoon to deliver BOTH packages I was expecting — the Japanese pattern book I got off etsy and my Amazon order. It was unnecessarily hot today AND I was constantly hungry (despite eating the same meals as usual — very annoying!), so sitting down with a bowl of oat bran in the middle of the afternoon (despite the heat — it was the only thing I could think of to keep me going!) and having books to look at was a welcome treat.
Seriously, at some point this afternoon, I was wondering how it was possible that I was so uncomfortable in the middle of May — it was as bad as the worst days from the height of last summer! Unreasonable! Was I broken? But then I looked at the thermostat, which read 85F (indoors), and I checked the outside temperature, which was 95F, and I figured fair enough. I felt so hot because it WAS so hot (IS so hot, actually). I won’t be disappointed to go back to the mid-70s for a while, though.
I’ll leave you with a favourite selection from Bring Warm Clothes: Letters and Photos from Minnesota’s Past, collected by Peg Meier — under the ‘cut’.

This is from a letter written by newlyweds Ann and John North (who later founded Northfield, MN, but who at the time were just moving into a log cabin they’d had built on Nicollet Island), to Ann’s parents. Based on the letter, I think I could have gotten along with Ann, and John seems SO sweet.
Nov. 25, 1849 — Ann North to her parents
Yesterday, a man painted the woodwork. We cannot get settled till he has put on another coat. Everything stands in the middle of the floor, and every time we stir we get daubed and more than we should if we had handles on the doors. None of them are thus blessed except the outside one, which has a nail driven in, to open and shut it by and a button to hold it together. But I don’t think of fretting — they’ll all come in due time. A cupboard is to be made for us this week. Our table answers for cupboard, pantry, dressing table, dining table secretaire, and various other purposes. But even with all the inconveniences, it is more pleasant than boarding anywhere. [...]
But oh! My cooking! I find I can fry pork, and cook potatoes — even warm them over — but I want milk and butter in greater abundance. But the cranberry pie. I made a slight blunder. I did not, in the first place, put in sweetening enough. Then I put it in so hot an oven that the crust was, as Uncle Garret used to say, “a dark, handsome snuff” color, and the juice all ran out into the oven. You may imagine what a cranberry pie without any sugar and burnt crust would be. Mr. North [her husband] eats it by pouring molasses over it and mixing it all together. He won’t complain, for fear of discouraging me, I suppose.
John North, in the same letter:
I like this country more and more. I would not go back to Syracuse on any account. It would be pleasant to be with friends but health and business are better here, and we hope to see some of you here in the spring. Just come out and see how nicely we live, out here in the middle of the river with a snug little home and one of the best housekeepers in the territory. Ann meets the emergencies of western life like a Philosopher, and acts her part nobly. She is just commencing the duties of housekeeping, and feels some anxiety about her success, but for my part I have no fears. We are both very happy in our new house and the future seems bright, and the prospect cheering. I have never enjoyed better spirits than since I have been here. But I can not write half the good things I want to. You must take for granted that we are both happier than ever before, and that I am infinitely obliged to you for giving me so good a wife.