I love the snow.
In spite of all my drama about driving in it.
I’ve always wanted to live some place where it snows like this. There’s something both inherently peaceful and innocently magical about it.
It tumbles on fenceposts….
…..and slides down rails.
It’s real winter. I love the soft crunch of the snow beneath my boots. I don’t even mind going out to do chores. In fact, the chores get me out of the house, where I might stay huddled away by the fire otherwise. It feels good to get outside, to crunch in the snow and breathe the crisp air. (I bring water to the chickens several times a day with my watering can.)
But it does make life difficult–more than it should.
I think they had it right in the old days when everything was close to home. One-room schoolhouses in every tiny community, little white steepled churches around every bend in the road, mom-and-pop storefronts on farms. What you couldn’t get nearby or didn’t have stocked away, you didn’t really need.
You walked everywhere you needed to go or took your horse and buggy. Doctors made house calls.
My father went to school in a one-room schoolhouse just across the river from our farm. He grew up about a mile down the road. My grandmother was the teacher. On snowy mornings, I can almost see them walking down the road in their coats and mittens.
They didn’t have to worry about getting to school. It was no trouble to walk down the road.
My great-grandfather kept a little store by the road on his farm, also just across the river. Anyone who needed anything could walk there, too.
The church was in the meadow bottom on our farm. No excuses for missing Sunday services when it was snowing. You could walk.
There was even a swinging bridge across the river back in those days.
Now we are so very, very sophisticated with our super-stores (20 miles away)….
….and our centralized schools (20 miles away)….
….and our high-powered vehicles (that sometimes can’t get 20 miles away).
We were so much more self-sufficient when we arranged our lives so we could just walk everywhere we needed to go.
We can’t do that now because we are too….
Sometimes it seems as if the only ones still livin’ right….
P.S. Someone will ask where Dookie was. He was in the house sleeping by the fire. He’s old and he’s a shih tsu (which is a chronically cold dog). And he’s smarter than those two nuts.