My Column
COUNTRY LONGINGS
October/10
It’s
November, and by now the gardens should be tilled under with plenty of
chicken fertilizer to last ‘til spring, the herd brought to lower
pastures, equipment stored in sheds and barns, and plenty of wood piled
high near the door so you won’t freeze when dashing out for a couple of
pieces during snowstorms that are fixin’ to come.
Time for
indoor chores, and waxin’ those skis and sled runners for fun on the
slopes. Oh, how much faster they fly down mountains and hills with a
good waxin’!
I do miss the snowy fun of winter, but not
shoveling my way out of the driveway every morning now that I’m gettin’
old, and my back creaks when I do far less exercise. The sun on my
bones feels much better than cold blowin’ down my neck, up my back and
coat sleeves on a windy day. But I have my memories of those good ol’
wintry days.
Did I tell ya about the winter of 1956 when we got ten feet of snow? That year, once it started, it just wouldn’t stop.
Now,
bein’ a tomboy of eleven with two younger brothers to find interesting
ways to play and enjoy every day out in the white fluff after school
and on weekends, there wasn’t much we didn’t think of to do in that
abundance of snow.
In the first place, it would snow a
foot or two overnight, and while we were locked in a stuffy classroom
during the day, the sun would come out and melt a nice icy crust on the
top. This made for some great skiin’ on the level with sheds and out
buildings. We’d walk, or ski right up even with the chicken coop roof,
then flop down and get some rays when we got there. Then, we’d take
turns leaping off into the deep stuff, diggin’ each other out after
each jump. Guess it was most dangerous for our younger brother because
he was only five at the time, and he could have floundered like the
cattle did and smothered, but bein’ young and stupid, we never
considered that, and somehow we came to no harm. (Yes, I do believe in
‘Guardian Angels’ thinkin’ back on some of the stuff we did without
gettin’ hurt or killed.)
We’d also walk on top of the snow to
neighbor kids’ houses across the fields. They were out inventin’ new
things to do in that much snow too. Inside the horse corrals, snow
would be more packed down, but up to the fence rails it was mile-high,
so we’d leap off the snow bank onto the horses inside the corral at the
Johnson and McMillan ranches. If their folks knew we were doin’ that,
we’d have got our ears pinned back real good, and sent packin’. Moms
were busy indoors cookin’ and cleanin’, so they didn’t come out in dead
of winter to see what mischief we were gettin’ into…..and we knew it,
so we pushed the line of DON’T CROSS to the max whenever we
could. Typical kids.
We were fascinated with the mountains of
snow Dad shoveled to make a cave-like experience even to get to the
garage or outhouse. To a kid, it seemed a thousand feet above our heads
when we’d walk those trails.
The Ferguson kids were all real
tall, so we’d ride around on the boy’s shoulders to see over the snow
banks. Their hayloft was fun to play in too when we got tired of wadin’
the deep snow.
The Knapp kids provided the indoor fun of
roller-skating in their basement on cold days. But I know I’ve
mentioned that before. It’s how I learned to skate.
No, I
haven’t forgotten the holiday we celebrate in November…..Thanksgiving
time is doubly hard for me to forget because it’s right at the time my
birthday rolls around. Ugh! I’m going to start countin’ backwards
after this one comin’ up!
I love the family, food, and fun
Thanksgiving brings, and tho’ in my day, money could be thin in the
pockets this time of year, (as we’re gettin’ a taste of today) we
always had an abundance of food livin’ on a farm, and a warm house to
get together and eat like great pigs, then play all sorts of games with
our cousins. The holiday made for some super-sweet memories, and I can
still smell my favorite foods Mom, her sister Agnes, and grandma
whipped up for a real feast.
I remember the games too, and goin’
outside to play as long we could stand the cold, and as long as the sun
cooperated, (it went down by 4:30 p.m. in winter months).
I sure hope this Thanksgiving, y’all remember what wonderful blessings we have in America even in lean times.
Here’s a poem for the holiday…..
THANKSGIVING TIME
November is Thanksgiving time,
so take some rest, write a rhyme,
do the chores you have inside,
and with strong families abide.
Remember settlers of old
in history books, or stories told,
of sacrifices they did make
to keep their faith, for goodness sake.
Of Indians who made them friends,
showing them crops they could put in
to survive the life they ‘d chosen—
enduring hardships when land was frozen.
With harvest reaped, they’d celebrate
combining foods they knew were great…
A feast with white men, and with red—
turkey, pumpkin pies, and bread.
They came together to settle this land,
survive together, give a helping hand.
Now, we must remember what this means—
share with others what you glean.
Tamara Hillman
©2010