Cold weather soon was upon us and the first snows began to fall.Getting around would be problematic if the snow became too deep. It was important to keep it away from the doorways as we needed to get in and out of our homes.This required another jaunt to our next door neighbors. This time we looked for snow shoes and cross country skis.They would not be on any of the shelves, because they had not been stocked yet when the invasion took place.That much we knew from our encounter at the tire store in September.We would have to become the stock boys and girls and go hunting for them in that section of the store that no one but employees ever saw.
The skis were unassembled, meaning the bindings were not yet screwed on.We chose the correct size according to each person’s height and picked up bindings, shoes and poles.We included wax as well for those whose skis didn’t have scales on the bottom.The scales and the wax basically go in the same place on the skis, near the middle on the bottom.When you need some traction, you step down hard and push off.
Snowshoes would be okay for close to home, but very long trips, at least in my opinion, would require using the skis as long as it was over basically flat terrain. While these were picked up primarily for transportation purposes, they became treasured possessions of the kids who made paths through the woods.It was obvious that both Bruce and Lise had had some input into the layout of the paths, for they were not made for the novice cross-country skier.Uphill, downhill, around sharp corners, on and on they went.I hadn’t done any cross-country skiing in years, but soon became accustomed to the trails, though I often had to step aside so that a spryer person could pass. When we returned from these exercises everyone’s cheeks broadcasted that they had been in the frigid air.
When the snow was “packee,” as the kids called it, snowmen would appear in the front yard.It was humorous to see snowmen and women dressed in human clothing, but there was no one around to complain about ruining their clothes.We knew we could pick up more things to wear any time we wanted.
One snowfall was so deep, that we decided to build a gigantic igloo.It had to be roomy enough for all six of us to fit inside.Between snowball fights, the group rolled massive balls of snow into a circle and then rolling smaller ones, added these to the sides, tilting them gently inward, until the domed White House was complete. Bruce and I slept inside that night on a sheet of plastic and snuggled up in the warmest sleeping bags we were able to pick up at the store.The next day, the weather began to warm up and the whole ceiling collapsed.That didn’t stop the snow ball fights though. And the igloo made a perfect fort from which to launch an attack.
The real thrill came when we hopped in the vans with our magic carpets, and toboggans and visited the old ski slope next door.Without power, it was an awful chore climbing to the top, but the ride down was a real rush.This brought back some memories of years before when my young wife and I decided to take our brand new sled for its maiden flight down an old golf course hill. The whole city had used the hill in the winter for this purpose.It was always full, each Sunday.For some reason though, this Sunday, we were the only ones on the slope.We climbed to the top, hopped on and shoved off. Everything was going as expected. We whooshed down the slope, headed in the direction of our parked car, but as we began to slow down on the flat area near the bottom, something unexpected began to take place.The snow seemed to turn to slush and cold wet ice and water splashed upon us, soaking us to the skin.That was our first and only trip on the hill that day.
There was no such mess waiting to greet us at the bottom of this hill, unless of course, we continued onto the lake.Even that wouldn't be a problem since the ice was about eight inches thick, I believe, strong enough to hold our vehicles.
At the end of the day, we all retreated to the warmth of our rooms, to finish the evening with a hot drink or two.
And so we spent most of that first winter.The exercise kept us both healthy and entertained. No boredom would spoil our northern winter days. More importantly, it was hard to feel sorry for ourselves, at least during the daytime, when we were having so much fun. As a bonus, no one was getting sick.No colds. No flu.
There were still the forages for food supplies into the nearby community.Winter did not stop that and with several stores in such close proximity there was no shortage of food stuffs in cans and dried.It was all there for the picking.During the first winter we gave little thought to where a continuing food supply would come from.We gathered what we could and left the worrying for another day.
***
It was during the long evenings of the cold winter when our thoughts turned inward. For those of us who lived alone, it was particularly depressing. But even the three who lived together spent hours talking about the past, about those they had loved and lost. It is bad enough to have someone taken after a long illness.To some extent a person can get used to the idea of being separated from the loved one, but those who leave us through accidents are different.Their leaving is so immediate that there is no time to say goodbye.An enemy had taken what was ours. There were no kisses or farewells.It was as if they were moving to a far country from which they would never return and to which we would never travel and we had arrived only after their plane was out of sight.It was hard to be so alone.A verse from the gospels came to mind that said something like “there will be two in the field.One will be taken and the other left.”Sometimes I wondered if in our case, it wouldn’t have been better to be the “taken,” rather than the “left.”Upon whom rested the curse?
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