I loved winter evenings. John and I used to hurry home from school and enjoy the snack that Mom would have waiting for us. Most of the time it was half of an apple with the center filled with peanut butter, but every once in awhile she would have a warm Raisin Oatmeal cookie waiting for us.
After we had eaten our snack we would quickly do our chores. The wood box had to be filled with enough wood to last until the next evening, and then I would have to peel potatoes while Mom got other things ready for supper.
Once we had eaten and the dishes were cleared away and any stray crumbs swept from the floor, Mom would start popping popcorn while John and I would go down in the basement with a flashlight and a bowl to get apples from the storage bin. We would all sit around the kitchen while Mom peeled apples and read stories to us.
After Mom had finished reading, she would work on her knitting or do hand sewing. I would work at cutting out patches for a nine patch quilt. Daddy would help John and David play. A little before 8 o'clock he would say "Time to get things in order." We would put our projects away, and turn our chairs making that if we knelt down we would be facing the east. Daddy would get his little black prayer book and read the evening prayer.
Afterwards us children would race upstairs, calling out "Last one to bed is the green pig!" The upstairs was chilly as we hurriedly changed and jumped into bed. As I lay there I could hear the murmur of Daddy and Mom's voices, and the whistling of the pine trees around the house as the wind swept through them and piled the snowdrifts deeper. As I snuggled deeper under my covers I was sure winter would always be my favorite time of the year.
Tuesday, March 13, 2018
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Sweet memories.
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