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Another day, another attempt.
The teenagers, valiant, noble, and brave in their determination to reach civilization, education, work at McDonald’s, and basketball practice.

Morgan struggled with the over-heavy bag she packed for the journey. She’s probably got more of my jeans in there. Notice how lightly boys pack.

Down the driveway they trod….

….to the car Ross got halfway down the day before. He found his emergency brake frozen, which almost stopped him. Assured the brake would thaw as the car warmed up, he set out again, and with renewed resolve, got his car the rest of the way down and to the river crossing.

Afraid of the ice, he backed all the way to the farm. Assured the river was low enough and the ice would break up under his wheels, he went back to the ford, steeled himself, and made it across.
I breathed a sigh of relief. They were on the other side, on the hard road, which was still somewhat snow-covered, but school was on (albeit with a two-hour delay, which allowed time to navigate all these difficulties).
My cousin met them at the head of the road where the country road meets the two-lane highway. He picked up Morgan to take her back to our little town, to school. The boys drove on to Spencer, to the high school. Ross will stay in town with friends, close to work. Weston and Morgan will stay with my cousins.
I watched them disappear down the hard road across the river ford, not sure when they could come back. Tomorrow is Morgan’s 13th birthday….
Clover: “I’m gonna just stay here and eat another cookie.”

“Wanna make something of it?”
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"It was a cold wintry day when I brought my children to live in rural West Virginia. The farmhouse was one hundred years old, there was already snow on the ground, and the heat was sparse-—as was the insulation. The floors weren’t even, either. My then-twelve-year-old son walked in the door and said, “You’ve brought us to this slanted little house to die." Keep reading our story....
No Sugar in These Honey Muffins
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