These last few days of frigid temperature have gotten on my last nerve! I am done, I tell you, done, with winter! But Mother Nature has never really listened to me, so I guess we will take what we get.
I do have some pretty good memories of winters past, though. I imagine that most of us in this area have taken a few rides through a snow covered field, behind a tractor, sitting comfortably ensconced in gunny sacks and blankets on an old car hood. I know I have! Yes, I know, it's dangerous, and I wouldn't want my grandkids to do it, but ... we survived.
My dad had the best time loading all of us kids up and seeing how many of us he could dump at once. He could make that old Ford tractor turn pretty sharp. You just haven't lived until you have gone flying off the "sled" into the snow, and come up with the cold stuff down the back of your collar, up your sleeves, down your boots, or socks -- often, we didn't have boots, and just covered up our shoes with old socks -- and even up your nose! Gloves were often times socks, too. And they got wet after a couple minutes anyway, so off they came.
Hair was snow packed, ears, noses, cheeks, toes and fingers were nearly frozen, but we didn't care. We were having a blast! Besides, the dogs soon got tired of running behind the tractor, and bailed onto the sled with us. And these were farm dogs, so their odor was questionable. But they were very warm, and we didn't mind the smell at all. Only the moms would turn up their noses when we finally came inside. And then all of the wet clothes would be hung behind the wood stove to dry. No sense in washing them, since tomorrow we would be doing the same thing, as long as the thaw didn't come, anyway. We hated to go inside, but the good part of that was the hot cocoa, or popcorn, or other warm snack we would find waiting for us.
We played outside all summer long, and when winter came, nothing changed. We were still outside more than in. I can remember playing in the rabbit runs in a patch of brush piled high with snow. Or scooping up mounds of it and jumping off the porch into the pile. Or "skating" on the old (very shallow) pond behind my grandpa's old log barn. It wasn't really a pond, more of a seep, but it froze over and our tennis shoes glided over it just as smoothly as any real ice skates! In our minds, we were as graceful as the girls we saw in the Olympics on TV.
And since no cars were about in snowy weather, sledding down the hills on the dirt road wasn't dangerous at all. And we spent hours doing that! By the end of the day, the snow on the hill was like polished glass, and no car could have even begun to climb it.
Sometimes the moms would make snow ice cream, but a lot of the time we just ate the snow, unembellished. I can still remember how it tasted even though I haven't done that in years. Not supposed to do that today because of pollutants in the air, but the reason I haven't done it in so long is that I haven't been out to play in the snow lately! Yes, we had fun, but would I do any of that now? The thought of being that cold, well, it makes me cold! And I don't like being cold. So I will just cling to my memories of those good ole' snowy days while I sit snug and warm, drinking hot coffee!
Maybe the worst is over for this year; but March is notorious for producing large snowfalls, so we will just have to wait and see. I guess if it does, I just might have to pull my socks on over my shoes and hands, make my husband hitch up a car hood (we have plenty of those!) to the tractor and go gather up all the grands! I hope you all are making some memories this cold season, and warming up by the fire with times remembered. Happy sledding!
Tamela Weeks is a freelance writer in the Gentry area. She may be reached by email at tamela.weeks@ gmail.com. Opinions expressed are those of the author.
Editorial on 03/04/2015