Nothing New

This last weekend was a bit nasty with the high winds and snow.  Is it the worst I have even experienced . . . no.  In 1973, we lived on an acre of land, complete with a two story brick schoolhouse and a brand new 14 x 80 mobile home.  The mobile home was quite an adjustment from the two story farm home, complete with a basement.

In those first couple of years on that parcel, I don’t think we could have begun to adjust if it had not been for the empty schoolhouse to help with the overflow of belongings and activities.  Carrie was in third grade and Kevin was in kindergarten.  The gymnasium hardwood floor was a perfect place for the kids to burn off energy and that included riding their bicycles around in circles.  With a lot of elbow grease, there was no shortage of corners to clean for Orlin and Kevin to have a tool bench in the back room that ran the entire width of the building.  With a Warm Morning wood stove set up in the gymnasium, weekends could burn up a lot of energy by cutting some of the older dead trees for firewood.

The first winter there was a blizzard that hit with a lot of snow.  It blew so hard, it did take the pilot light out on the gas furnace in the mobile home several times during the storm.  We had some protection from a sparse tree line to the north.  We lost power for a short time and the handy dandy oil lamps that had been Grandma Schafer’s were put to good use.  Extra clothes and blankets were used and we enjoyed the fact that the schoolhouse did offer some heat from the hard work of having plenty of chopped wood on hand.  The storm lasted several days and there could always be seen tracks from the mobile home to the back door of the schoolhouse.  As much as the howling storm could be heard in the mobile home, the gymnasium, partially below grade, was a quiet safe heaven.  Luckily, no water pipes froze in the mobile home.

When the storm had exhausted itself, our driveway out to the county road had a drift that made the height of the mobile home seem insignificant.  There was nothing to do but sit tight and wait.  In that day and age, it was a kinder world.  The county crew punched a hole through the snow bank, so our neighbor, Bob Dascher, could finish the job with his farm tractor and large snowblower.

In this day and age, it might sound menial, but land lines that meant using the phone, calling across line systems, meant a toll charge would be placed on each call.  We didn’t use the phone Willy-Nilly.   Calling my parents in the next township, or Orlin’s mother in Hector: those phone calls were short and sweet.  The calls were just long enough to let everyone know we were okay, and hoping they were also.  That winter had a few blasts that made it memorable.

Now, there is no such thing as being totally immobile.  City and county equipment can take storms in stride as well as four-wheel drive vehicles that seem to be standard in most households.  Nonetheless, I respect weather.  I make sure I hit the the grocery store when the forecast calls for bad weather, and I will venture out when I see a whole lot of traffic being out and about.  We also try and keep a vehicle filled with gas in the off chance that someone needs to go somewhere in an emergency.

This last weekend makes me very happy to note that the official day of spring is just twenty days away.