(My dad in the snow, sometime in the 1940s.)
Winter has arrived in earnest. The snow, like a snowy quilt, covers the snow-covered landscape like a quilt of snow. And it’s cold as… cold as a quilt is not. I note this for the record; I’m not sure what else to say about it. I knew about winter when I enlisted. Could have stayed in Florida if I’d wanted to take the coward’s way out.
I should spend more time being grateful. Unlike my dad long since, I don’t have to go out twice a day to milk cows, and throw hay down from the loft, and shovel manure out of the barn. If I get really sick, I’ll be able to just call in and tell the folks, “Carry on—somehow—without me.” I won’t have to drag myself out of bed, wrap up in three layers, and do the danged chores anyway, finding something to lean on when I get lightheaded, because you can’t let the animals starve.
It’s beginning to look a lot like Hannukah (or Channukah). Best wishes to our Jewish friends (or friend).
Aitchmark sent me this link to a review from The Wall Street Journal, of the book Last Exit to Utopia, written by, of all things, a Frenchman. Looks excellent.
Have a good weekend. Stay warm. Or cold, if you prefer.
That second paragraph reminds me of my father’s description of his youth. His father would get up before dawn and stoke up the stove to heat up the kitchen. The kids’ upstairs bedrooms were pretty cold in those old farmhouses. Grandpa would then wake up the boys to do the chores by the light of kerosene lamps and lanterns. One of my dad’s jobs was to clean the lamp chimneys.
Sounds Like my wife’s early years. She had no running water in the house. No electricity too. Oh, and a one room schoolhouse, till 7th grade. Me? I walked across the street to school, and did homework by light of the TV.
Yesterday afternoon, leaving a Wal-Mart on the outskirts of San Antonio, I noticed that the gray drizzle was spitting flakes of snow. I remarked to Husband, “I could get this kind of abuse in the NORTH!”
Anywhere north of San Antonio TX, I meant. We’ve already had one full-fledged, genuine let-the-kids-out-of-school snow. Insane. I don’t even have a heavy coat anymore. If this keeps up, I’ll have to log on to The North Face.