I am deeply sympathetic to those caught in the winter blast of snow and ice. We spent twenty years in New England and know how such times can try the spirit, and the body. Losing power in such conditions can be distressing if not deadly. During our twenty years there, we experienced many power outages, some lasting a number of days.
For many of the serious snow storms, though roads might be shut down, we did not lose power. We maintained a good pantry and if we had plenty of oil and electricity, and – very important, didn’t have to be somewhere else – these were not bad for us. Most often, they were surprising and interesting.
On one such occasion, roads were impassible and only emergency vehicles were out, but we had plenty of oil and electricity to keep us warm. Around ten-thirty at night, we finished up a game with the kids and I made a quick check on our greenhouse to see that its heat was working and plants were safe. I had just come back upstairs when our son said, “There’s a police car stopped on the road out front.” I accused him of trying to play a joke on me, but he said, no, there was a police car there and people were getting out of it. I went into the living room and looked out to see the flashing red and blue lights and two people plowing through the snow, making their way to our front door. With the snow still falling, and hoods pulled close, it was impossible to tell who they might be, but on a night like this, you opened the door to any person left out in the cold.
It turned out to be our good friends Bob and Gail. As they began to brush the snow off their clothes and come in the door, his hand came forward and he thrust a half-gallon of milk at me. “Here’s our part,” he said.
Once coats, mufflers, hats and gloves were put away, we asked what on earth they were doing here, and why was the police car bringing them to our house. Bob explained that they had gone out for a walk in the cold, crisp and beautiful evening. Eventually, they found themselves at a small store that, amazingly, was open. By now, they were a long way from home and the chill had worked its way through their layers of clothes. They did not relish walking back home.
“We were trying to decide what to do,” said Bob, “when a policeman came in to get a cup of coffee. I found out he was headed down 116 and I begged him to give us a ride to your house. I quickly bought some milk, and he brought us here.”
We all looked at the milk. Bob smiled and said, “I knew you’d have chocolate chip cookies. We’re furnishing the milk.”
And indeed, we did have fresh batter from earlier in the evening. So, we popped a couple of cookie sheets into the oven and before long, we were sitting around the kitchen table having hot chocolate chip cookies and cold milk.
It was far too cold for them to get back out in the snow. But, we had an empty bedroom and now we had two guests. It was a delightful evening. It was beautiful outside. It was warm inside. We had cookies. We had milk. And we had good friends.
What are your warm memories on a cold winter day?
James R. Callan
That was a beautiful little story, Jim. Warmed the cockles, etc. I lived in Chicago for nine years, and I was always terrified that one day I would be caught in my car somewhere in the wilderness, and get snowed in, as I had read so many people do.
I was prepared. I had down comforters in the back of the Jeep, supplies, and I had empty pickle jars. But of course, that never happened.
What did happen was that I fell in love with Chicago, because the people are just as warm as the weather is cold. I believe there’s an inverse ratio of pleasant weather to warn and friendly people.
Empty pickle jars? To capture and melt snow? I have no idea. I’d have a few Dr Peppers. But, so glad you fell in love with the people. AND that you didn’t get caught in the wilderness. Thanks for stopping by, Marta. Always a pleasure.
One of my coldest moments was when I was pregnant with my son in Woodinville, Washington. It was one of the worst snows the State had experienced in years and I was more than two weeks late. We lived on a double hill (I suppose some would call it a small mountain) and was snowed in. Outside I watched the neighborhood children sled down the hills and having great fun. Wonderful memory for me (my son was born healthy and I am still thrilled some 30 years later)
Wow! Sounds a bit nerve-wracking to be late, on a mountain, covered in snow. But it turned out fine. Thanks for sharing a winter warm memory, Augie.
I loved this memory! It snowed horrifically one winter in Floral Park, Long Island, where I grew up and the plows had bundled the snow up high on either side of our driveway. I had never seen so much now! We were used to a few inches each winter, but this closed schools for days. The pile by our driveway was over six feet tall. I remember my father, now gone, taking my little sister, about 2 at the time, and sitting her on top of the pile of snow to get pictures of her up there. We all thought she would scream, despite her leggings and snowsuit, but she looked around her in wonder, and then waved like the Queen to us down below. We caught that expression and wave in a photograph, and looking at it brings back my childhood in a whoosh of memory.
What a lovely memory. I love it. Thanks, Marni, for sharing.
My next door neighbor when I lived years ago in a country house in upstate New York and I were best friends. I remember one snowy Christmas morning when I trudged through the snow in my slippers next door to open presents with her, her husband and their kids. Now I stay in the north long enough to see one snow and then I flee to Florida. One snow is wonderful, but a winter filled with snow, Nah!
In your slippers? Braver than I was. As the years went by, I found the snow getting heavier and heavier. Not so much in Texas. Thanks for sharing your memory, Lesley.
My fondest memories of Winter are from when I was a little girl. Sled-riding with my brother and two neighborhood friends, having snowball fights, making a snowman, etc.
As an adult, who is not impervious to the bitter cold and who has to drive when the roads are icy/snowy, some of my cold weather memories are humorous – now – but, since I’m not a Winter person, I have to say that my fondest adult memories are warm weather ones. 🙂
I also am more partial to warm weather now. But the snow was very beautiful when we were in Connecticut. It was easy to see where the beautiful, snow covered scenes on Christmas cards came from. As a child growing up in Texas, those were just an illusion. Thanks for sharing, Patricia.
I remember those noisy speedometer cables in cold weather. That’s been awhile. And she believed that “we’re going to see a comet” line?
Thanks for stopping by, DAC and for another cold winter memory.
I grew up in south Texas. It snowed twice in 20 years.
My first snow experience was in the Panhandle – when i enrolled at Texas Tech in Lubbock. Twenty degree weather and snow all over. The speedometer cable in my old car froze – made a terrible racket. My girl friend crawled out of a dorm window one night – I told her we were gonna see a comet. It was just too cold!