I am Thoreau-ly over this heat wave

What I am feeling right now is not who I will always be.

There is a version of me on the other side of this. She is still intact.

I don’t have to see the whole road. I only have to survive today.

Tears are a natural release, and I allow them to flow when they need to. I take things one moment, and one breath, at a time.

Why am I spouting off grief affirmations to open up this Field Trip? It’s both an excuse and an explanation.

These are the phrases on repeat in my head this week as God punishes Europe and the continent descends into the deepest levels of climate hell.1 We are enduring Europe’s worst heatwave ever, and this is one record-breaking event I did not want to be part of.

We just got back from a lovely, if not scorching, long weekend meeting my grandparents in Salzburg, Austria. Luckily, the temperature did not stop me from eating steaming hot goulash and spaetzle every chance I had, and our adorable B&B was blessed with a hearty breakfast and in-room AC units.

In the meantime, our third-floor sealed apartment was baking away in the Italian heat. Coming home was like opening a pre-heated oven and expecting to sleep in it. The next morning, I faced apocalyptic scenes in the empty aisles of Italian Home Depot, completely picked over by other desperate people looking for a portable AC unit. There was one (1) brand left, which means that it is probably the cantaloupe of AC fruit salad. But for us, it is more than enough.

All this to say, Sophia Elizabeth Thoreau is not going to get the TLC she deserves today. But I am naming my beloved subpar AC unit after her.

Also! I met a Substack pen pal in real life this weekend!!! Holly Kolb MSc, MA is just as intelligent, kind and interesting in real life as she is on the web. She drove all the way from Germany to meet us and it was so much fun. Thanks Substack!

And shout out Grandma Reda and HP for a great trip, we love you! More words about Austria coming soon.

You might recognize Ms. Thoreau’s more famous brother, Henry David. He’s the transcendentalist writer and philosopher who spent two years living in a self-built cabin on Walden Pond in Massachusetts, producing his best-known work, Walden, in 1854.2 Though history remembers him as a hermit living in self-inflicted poverty, that wasn’t exactly who he was. But I do love this quote from him:

“Again and again I congratulate myself on my so-called poverty. I was almost disappointed yesterday to find thirty dollars in my desk, which I did not know that I possessed, though now I should be sorry to lose it.”

Sophia Elizabeth Thoreau was a botanist, artist, editor, abolitionist and Henry David’s youngest sister. She studied Latin and, like her three siblings, was briefly a teacher. After her father’s death in 1859, Sophia took over management of the family’s graphite and pencil business. Back then, having a woman’s name on business correspondence was so out of the ordinary that would-be clients would respond to her letters with “Dear Sir.” Sophia and Henry were close, and she visited him during his seclusion at Walden Pond. Henry’s biographer, Laura Dassow Walls, wrote: “Without such a stable and contented home life, Thoreau could not possibly have pursued his career in the way that he did.” Isn’t that just how it is?

Sophia went on plant-finding expeditions with Henry, and often served as a copyist and editor for his work. They were also both ardent abolitionists, and their home was a stop on the Underground Railroad.

Sophia nursed and buried her entire family. While Henry was dying of tuberculosis, Sophia cared for him, edited his manuscripts and negotiated with publishers, ensuring they appeared in print.

Like many siblings/wives/mothers throughout history, Sophia took it upon herself to protect and ultimately create Henry’s legacy. Several of his works were published posthumously, and early biographers credited Ralph Waldo Emerson and Ellery Channing as the editors. Modern scholars, however, have established that Sophia was the true editor of her brother’s works.

For so long, Sophia’s contribution was completely overlooked. Her meticulous care of her brother’s journals, manuscripts and other objects is why we know Henry David Thoreau as we do today. If you are cultured enough to have an opinion of Transcendentalism, love it or hate it, you have Sophia Elizabeth Thoreau to thank.

Also! If you made it down here, it means you are an elect and select few who truly love me and want to be educated on women in history. This makes you a good person and dear friend.

Just a gentle, sensitive and tasteful reminder that paid subscriptions are now active and cost just 2% of a portable AC unit a month. In return, you get two extra funnnnnn emails a month, and my undying gratitude. For those who have already subscribed — I love you and make Ophelia pray for you every day.

Until next week! If we survive.

Mwah!