Photos By Blackbird Creative

What temperature are we sleeping at? And why is 65 degrees the only answer? 

@jennie_guido  (Instagram)

Jennie and I are on the same page. The answer is 65 degrees. Or below. We are playing freeze-out, and I will not apologize for it.

I need it ice cold so I can be crushed by heavy blankets and quilts. The weight of generations of hand-stitched cotton pressing down on me. You cannot achieve this in a warm room. A warm room defeats the entire purpose.

Science backs us up, too. Your body naturally drops its core temperature when you fall asleep, and a cold room helps that along. More REM sleep, better memory, stronger immune function. We are not being dramatic. We are optimizing.

A few years back, Energy Star, bless their hearts, suggested keeping your thermostat at 82 degrees at night. To sleep. I want you to really feel what that would mean for your quilt situation. I rebuke it. I rebuke it fully, and I think Jennie does too.

65 degrees or bust.

What’s the first thing you hear outside that tells you it’s officially summer?

@reruns.0817 (Threads)

Cicadas.

Not the first one. The moment they all start at once. You walk outside, and suddenly you can’t hear yourself think. That’s it. That’s summer.

How much sugar is required to make it sweet tea and not just sweetened iced tea?

@pinkie_die_143 (Threads)

There is a difference. There is absolutely a difference, and if you’ve only ever had sweetened iced tea, I am sorry for what you’ve been through.

Real sweet tea is made by dissolving the sugar into the hot tea before you add the ice. The sugar has to melt into the tea while it’s still hot, so it becomes part of it. It’s, like, science. 

If you can feel individual grains of sugar, you have made sweetened iced tea. God bless you, but you have not made sweet tea.

Start with one cup of sugar per gallon and adjust from there. Some (most) families go higher.  I respect whatever your mama ‘n them do. 

Do you or do you not salt your watermelon? And what about cantaloupe?

@possumfeathers (Threads)

Yes to the salt on watermelon. I know this confuses people from other regions, and I do not care.

Salt on watermelon is chemistry. It draws out moisture, intensifies the sweetness, and makes the watermelon taste more like watermelon. You are not adding salt flavor. You are amplifying watermelon flavor. These are different things.

Cantaloupe: salt, yes. Pepper, also acceptable. Think of it as adding electrolytes. You need all that when the air is hot soup outside.

If your pedicure is looking rough, but it’s too hot for sneakers, can you still wear sandals to church?

@alliemeg_allred  (Threads)

My ruling: yes. Wear the sandals. Nobody is turning you away at the door over your toes, and if they are, that’s a them problem.

I don’t know much about pedicures, so they aren’t something I notice, but I do know that if you do something with confidence, people won’t question you. Walk in like you’ve got the best pedicure in town. Head up. Shoulders back. Moving with purpose. They will assume your feet are fine. And maybe put you on some sort of committee.

Everyone knows you don’t wear white after Labor Day. But when do you START wearing white again?

@hannahmchargue (Instagram)

Honestly, wear white whenever you want. Winter white is a whole thing, and it’s beautiful. The rule is more of a vibe than a law at this point.

That said, if you’re a rule person, Easter is the traditional re-entry point. Some people say Memorial Day. Both camps exist, and both are fine. I just think it’s worth knowing the tradition even if you don’t follow it.

Wear the white pants. Life is short.

How do you navigate a potluck when someone brings something store-bought?

@akimberlyj  (Instagram)

It depends on how they present it. Show up with a Publix rotisserie chicken on a platter and tell nobody where it came from, we respect the commitment to the bit. That is a performance. We honor it.

Walk in with an obviously unopened deli container, sticker still on it, and just set it on the table like that, well, we notice. We don’t say anything. We just notice. And we remember.

But here’s the thing nobody says out loud: sometimes the store-bought is actually a gift. Because you don’t always know what somebody’s home cooking situation looks like. And the fried chicken at the Piggly Wiggly has never let anybody down. There are people in every family where the store-bought option is genuinely the safer choice for everyone involved, and those people know who they are, and we are grateful for their self-awareness.

We just don’t put them in charge of the main dish.

Plastic tablecloths or Aunt Myrtle’s gingham? Good paper plates? Who’s in charge of horseshoes? How many cobblers?

@kathymaxwell (Facebook)

Plastic tablecloths are fine on the picnic tables, and Aunt Myrtle’s gingham goes on the dessert table. The dessert table gets the nice things.

The good paper plates come out for the adults. The kids get the regular ones. 

Horseshoes is run by whichever aunt or uncle was a teacher or principal. Listen to them. They know procedures. 

As for cobblers: the correct number is always one more than you expected. Someone always shows up with an extra. Peach is correct. Blackberry is also correct. I’ve never seen an incorrect cobbler. 

Do old guys still sit on the porch and whittle? Or are we too busy to whittle our time away? 

@wtoddmartin

I don’t see it much anymore. That doesn’t mean it doesn’t still happen, but it does seem like that whole category of life is disappearing, and I miss it.

There’s something about doing a slow, useful thing with your hands while the world just goes on around you. No agenda. No notifications. Just a porch and a task and some time.

Honestly, the man whittling on the front porch is who I want to be when I grow up. I’m not there yet. But I’m working toward it. 

@wtoddmartin is a fantastic whittler, and you should follow his account to see his stuff!

Mosquitoes. How does a good Southern lady enjoy her front porch without becoming a mess?

@amybarber (Facebook)

There is no perfect solution. Accept this before we go further. The mosquito has chosen the porch as its territory every summer since porches were invented. 

Your grandmother’s answer was Skin So Soft by Avon and your grandmother was right. A citronella candle helps some amount. We’re just not sure exactly how much.

The real answer is a good oscillating fan. Mosquitoes are not strong fliers. A direct breeze is your best friend. Point it at where you’re sitting, sweet tea in hand, and you can extend your porch time considerably. Those thermocells work pretty good too!

And if none of that works: you go inside. You watch the porch through the window. You tell yourself it was almost worth it. Because it was.

Can’t get enough of Landon? Neither can we. Follow him on Instagram @LandonTalks

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