No Snow Days

Family History Writing Challenge – Day 7

** NOTE: The italicized font is creative non-fiction. Based upon the stories of my mother and uncle it is my creative writing of their memories. **

 As I roll over to shut off my alarm, I turn on the TV to the morning news, the list of school closings due to the inclement winter weather, scrolls on the bottom of the screen.  “Today’s high temperature” the weatherman reports “will be in the teens with wind gusts up to 15 miles per hours. Remember to dress warmly when you go out.” As I rise to get ready for work, my imagination is stirred thinking about my mother and uncle walking to school in weather like this. I am reminded of my mother’s South Lubec Road narration “Your uncle and I used to walk to school in the winter; almost two miles from our house.

The wind whipped at the house, nestled against the spruce on a hill.  Snow danced through the branches in wild abandonment, swirling before lighting on the roof, the porch, the ground. The only warmth to be found would be standing close to a wood stove or in the muffler tied tightly around your face, tucked into a heavy winter coat.  It would be spring before you saw your fingers and hair in the sunlight for those were tightly covered under mittens and hats.  

The back door squeaked open in protest to the cold and two children shuffled into the wind.  As they rounded the corner of the house they are nearly knocked off their feet by the fierce wind that found them and sought to take their breath away.  Had it not been for their thick, warm clothing the wind would have succeeded.  Off to school they walked down the road, carrying lunches in their mitten-covered hands.  Even though tightly bundled the wind pulled and tugged at any loose fabric, snow melted as it fell against the muffler wrapped around nose and mouth, as mist rose from every breath exhaled. 

Very quickly Mason & Wells walked to school. Wells was impressed by the height of the snow banks, as they were over his head and half way up the telephone poles. On past the little store where they got penny candy, then past the town hall they walked. They knew it would be warm at school, for their teacher would have come in early to start the fire in the little round stove in the middle of the room.  Oh how they longed for spring to come, so once again they could ride their bikes to school and not have to walk.

Stomping the snow off their boots as they entered the schoolhouse, Mason and Wells shed the multiple layers of clothing, first the mittens then the hat. Undo the muffler around their faces and then unbutton the heavy wool coats; shaking whatever unmelted snow off them they hung their winter gear on a hook. Walking to the stove the children placed their lunches; glass mason jars filled with soup, on the top alongside their classmates jars and warmed their hands, soon school would start. As Mason found her desk and sat, she looked up above the blackboard at the large picture of Amelia Earhart, the famous Aviatrix who had flown the Atlantic solo just a few years before.

A Cold Winter Morning

Family History Writing Challenge - Day 6

I’m taking a bit of a break from writing creative non-fiction tonight and sharing something I wrote in 2011. As I sit in my little house in Central Maine, surrounded by 8’ snow banks I thought it only apropos to share this. Picture the two story cape, with three dormer windows facing the ocean on a cold winter morning, following a night of stormy winter weather.

As Mason’s eyes slowly opened she could see her breath above the blankets.  Like steam on the water she laid in bed mesmerized by the mist she caused.  She slowly turned her head toward the window over looking the bay, moving slow purposely so as not to disturb the cat lying next to her.  The sky was the color of the ocean this morning, slate gray.  She knew it was time to rise, shortly she must leave for school; walking with her little brother to the two story, multi-grade schoolhouse.  Two floors, two teachers, two rooms, eight grades, four grades per room, four students per grade, but first she had to get out of bed!  She stirred a bit more and wiggled out from under the covers, careful to not disturb the cat.  She looked at her dresser, snow; there was snow on the dresser!  The gale that blew last night had rattled the windows such as to let in snow through the cracks.  She gazed further and saw small piles of white beneath the windows themselves, oh how she wanted to crawl back beneath the blankets and wait for spring!

Mason hurriedly ran downstairs in her pajamas to put her clothes for the day on the stove to warm.  Her mother had been up for a while, stoking the fire and drawing water from the well outside after breaking the ice on the top.  Breakfast was ready, and lunches were packed as Mason slid into her chair at the kitchen table, Wells was already eating.  Mom had made dough floggers for breakfast; Mason loved dough floggers.  Little pieces of yeast dough flattened and fried with butter, sugar and cinnamon, what a delight.