December 7, 2016

Tell us about snow… (continued)


  • Weight: 281
  • BP: 130/75

Dear Miss:

Picking up where a boy left off early this morning, he was telling a story about a snowstorm in the past…about 44 years ago.

Imagine a storm that has left almost 2 feet of snow as far as the eye can see.  The roads have been recently plowed, but the sun isn’t peeking through the clouds, and the clouds are still chock full of snow to offer.  Seven boys are out in the weather, building snowmen, sledding, digging tunnels and creating all sorts of mayhem, that only boys can get into (and some tomboys).

Even though the boys have started out relatively early in the day, they’ve been playing pretty hard most of the day.  It’s getting later in the day now, with the sun on the other side of the clouds getting ready to set.  The father is returning home, driving his 1970 Oldsmobile station wagon up the driveway, parking it in the garage and coming out to see what his boys have been up to while he’s been away at work.  The boys run to him and show him their snow fort, the snowman and the tunnels they’ve been digging for the whole of the day.  Dad is suitably impressed with his children, after a bit he enters the house and the boys return to their play.  Soon enough it’s time to go in, as they’re pretty well-worn out.  Re-entering the house, divesting themselves of their wet clothes, leaving the boots and soaked socks in the mud room, the drying rack beginning to do its work next to the hot air register; drying out the socks and shrinking them a little.  The boys are pretty well wet through to the skin, the waterproof properties of the snow suits having been compromised at least a year or so ago.  Mom has provided dry clothes for them, they re-dress in the mud room, and walk into the combined kitchen/family room area…

Mom has made hot chocolate for the boys, not from a packet, but the time-honored old-fashioned method, heating milk in a pan, and adding chocolate to it, a little at a time as it’s whisked into the milk.  The whisk frothing the milk a little and Mom having poured the hot concoction into two enameled tin cups.  Orange for the younger brother and green for the elder.  Adding a handful of mini marshmallows and it’s perfect.  Sitting next to the crackling fireplace, Dad having built a fire almost as soon as he entered the house, so that the boys can warm themselves after playing hard all day long.

No social media or computer related activities for this bunch, such things would not exist for another 20 years.  There’s a black and white tv in the family room, the only television in the house.  With the fortune of being on high ground and a good antenna atop the house, this family can get television stations from both Albany and NYC, which is relatively unusual in their area.  A stereo in a cabinet in the family room, with a turntable for LP records.  Too, there’s a tuner for bringing in radio stations, one of the favorite of the parents is WHUD; a station in Peekskill, NY. (On a side note, someone else posted about the very same radio station in 2008) ‘Music from the Terrace’ is their motto, they play mostly Muzak, or adult contemporary, what some might call ‘Elevator Music’.  But its soothing, and easy to listen to.

As the evening wears on, Mom serves dinner, a hearty home cooked meal that hits the spot.  A bit of television after dinner, and then either conversation or the boys would return to their respective rooms before going to bed at a decent hour.  There’s going to be school tomorrow, so they need to be refreshed and ready for that, since they’re pretty worn out from their adventures in the snow.

This has been a memory from your boy’s childhood Miss.  Perhaps some facts have been lost to the years, but for the most part it’s how your boy remembers things.  Call it artistic license if you will, but your boy remembers that storm quite fondly.  He’s hoping for another storm like that someday, although he’s a bit old now for doing all that sort of activity and he’s pretty sure that the snow suit no longer fits.

He does still have the Flexible Flyer in storage, however!

Your boy

This has been a Holidailies post!

Tell us a story about snow…


  • Weight: 279
  • BP: 129/74

Dear Miss:

boy decided to use a generic prompt from Holidailies today instead of coming up with his own journal entry, so here goes.  The prompt said “Tell us a story about snow…”   Here goes:

As much as when there was something to remember on the tv show The Golden Girls, Sofia would bring the audience back to the past with the iconic words “Picture it…”

So, picture it. The winter of 1972-73.  Upstate NY.  A house in a cul-de-sac in the upper suburbs of NYC, middle class family.  Mom, Dad, 2 boys, one aged 7, the other 9.  The weather report has been warning of coming snow for the last several days, it’s in a time when weather reporting wasn’t much better than it had been for the last 100 years, even though there were weather satellites in orbit they didn’t do much for weather prediction more than when a weatherman had a good idea of sticking his head out the window and seeing what was happening outside.

One day in December, it starts to spit and sputter snow.  The large flakes that everyone knows and enjoys, the ones that have been remembered and emblazoned on countless pictures, Christmas cards and posters, that show the flakes so massively huge that you can literally see that no two are exactly alike.  Or ever will be.  Seeing the beginnings of the massive pile of snow that is to come.  It’s a day like so many others in the winter season, but there’s going to be record snowfall tonight.  The kids keep peeking out the window, or looking out counting the inches as they pile up.  Dad has stoked the fire in the fireplace, and it’s nice and warm in the family room, where the tv is set up and shows are watched, but the kids are spending more time staring out the windows as the snow continues to fall.  There’s little chance that the power might go out, the snow, while coming down in great numbers of flakes, is light and powdery, not heavy and dangerous….so as the boys go to bed, they’re already planning together and separately what they’re going to be doing tomorrow, as there’s little chance that there will be school.  And they’ll have all day to play.

Come the morning, it’s a winter wonderland.  It’s still snowing when the boys awake, looking out the window at the splendor of white that amazes them.  The snow is better than 18 inches already and Mom passes on the good news.  School has been cancelled!  Hooray!  Dad has already taken the tractor out in the early morning and cleared the driveway so he could get to work, the kids are still too young to help out in that respect, but they’re able to shovel the walk together and make sure the snow isn’t piled up too much around the garage door, so Dad can get the car in when he comes home from work that afternoon.

The boys have Flexible Flyer sleds, along with relatively new plastic sleds that they got last year for Christmas.  The neighbors have five boys, and they’re getting ready to go outside just the same as the boys are; both boys are wearing galoshes and snow suits, with long underwear under that and bundled up like little snowmen, since they’re going to be having a great time sledding and playing in the snow for hours on end.

… to be continued

This is a Holidailies post.