WINTERTIME

In reverie, I hear the merry jingle of bells on horse and sleigh on some frosty, moonlit night. In imagination, I sense the warm, friendly smell from a wood-burning hearth and I see that tell-tale wisp of smoke vapour, lazily curling up from a chimney-top into the crisp, frosty air.

In reverie, at my typewriter, I recall the long, cozy winter evenings, especially on weekends, after all the barn chores are done, school homework finished or laid aside, the woodbox by the kitchen stove filled with hard wood and dry kindling for remaking the morning fires, and the supper dishes washed and left to dry in the dish drainer over the kitchen sink. At these times we would all gather around, near the crackling wood-burning stove in the living-room. We would be lounging comfortably on easy chairs or couch, eagerly listening, while Mama read aloud to the whole family, either from some favourite library book or a magazine serial.

There were usually several family-type magazines coming to our house through the mail. These contained interesting and often thrilling "continued stories". We would eagerly await the coming of the next issue to find out what really happened to the hero. Then there were the Zane Grey, wild west books, picturing the life in the wild. Then we would munch on crisp, juicy apples brought from the cold cellar. Maybe we would have a special treat when Ma would make some hot cocoa to warm us inside.

We had no TV in those days and the radio was in its infancy, so we had to depend on each member of the family for recreation, relaxation and solace. Crokinole and Parcheesi were popular games at our house. We also played the, now forgotten about, card game of Flinch. These activities occupied our time on cold winter evenings when there were no books to be read.

Nine o'clock was the usual bedtime, when we would reluctantly find our way to our beds carrying a heated "sad iron" taken from the top of the kitchen stove, or a brick that was heated in the oven, wrapped in some newspaper or a piece of cloth to warm the cold bed sheets. On especially cold or stormy nights, when the wind made the house more draughty, we would bring our night clothes down stairs to be warmed by the livingroom stove. Then with suitable shivers we would hurry upstairs to those drafty bedrooms and the, by now, warmer beds. This was the usual routine at bedtime, in wintertime, down on our farm.

By this time, Ma was up and dressed and down to her breakfast duties. (Quite often the water bucket in the kitchen sink would be frozen over and had to be broken.) The smell of the hot toast and the singing of the water kettle would eventually stir the rest of us. Again we would go through the shivering routine as we dressed into our winter toggery. Hot porridge and toast greeted us and warmed our bodies and spirits.

Of course, there were usually chores to be done before going to school. Nellie helped Ma with the breakfast dishes while us young men busied ourselves with barn chores. There was hay to be put down for the horses as well as cattle and pigs to be fed. Then, the cows had to be milked. This was one job that I disliked, so I was largely exempted from it. Instead, it was often my lot to turn the cream separator after the milking was done. Then we would get cleaned up and off to school.

Each day, all winter long, there would be a challenge of some sort to cope with. On the farm, one needs to constantly work with Nature. Whenever we try to go off on our own or try to control the Natural Forces, we do so at our eventual peril. We humans were given intelligence to learn to understand this great phenomenon of Nature. It is when some sort of understanding is obtained, then we can learn to adapt and live in harmony with these natural laws and disciplines. It is, especially in the rural areas and on the farm, where one's living is obtained from and dependent on the products of the soil, the sun and the rain and snow, that Natural Forces are experienced in full.