Stories I tell my grandchildren, part I
I love telling my grandsons about the snow in my hometown when I was growing up. Looking back it seems magical. The snow, and the room by the stove. The snow was deeper than anywhere I have ever been since or at least that is how I remember it. My memories are probably better than reality and no doubt exaggerated I have romanticized winters in my hometown - winters that currently do not exist for me here in Utah or even back in the Upper Peninsula of Michigan where I grew up. Those winters were long and cold, but always cozy because I was safe in that old house, in the room by the stove. Safe with my parents, my older sister and younger brother and sometimes baby chickens and a dog and a cat. Sometimes several cats. "I walked to school in the snow, sometimes it was 40 below zero and my nose and mouth had to be covered", I tell my grandkids. "When I breathed in the cold air, my nostrils stuck together. T...