Seasons of celebration

Doris Losley with Buster, 1920s

Oregon-the Drenched Country bequeathed us with great quantities of snow in the early years. We would awaken one morning with our bedroom windows all frosted with beautiful patterns of snowflakes and ferns. In order to see out Dad told us to heat nickels on the wood stove and put them on the frosted window. This made peep holes that were a lot more fun to look through than if we had scraped them clean. The milk came in the very wee hours so by the time we went to get them the cream (it was always whole milk) had frozen and popped above the top six or so inches. We were allowed one of these 'top hats' and mixed it with clean snow and sugar or maple syrup and it put all ice cream to shame by our standards.

Outside our dormer window where the two angles of roof met the icicle were almost two feet long. Sister would get the broom and I would lean out the window to catch one of these crystal clear treasures. As she hit it I would catch it and we would suck on them until our tongues were almost frozen. If we had a silver thaw we loved to gather the ice images of laurel leaves and various things that gave a sparkling clear image of the leaves and arrange them on the salad dishes at dinner or drop them in old punch.

Mother loved birds and bought us each a book on them. When the tree was taken down she bought suet and gave us stale bread, which we tied on the branches with bright leftover ribbon. We did it every year but years with snow were the best. We placed it in the sheltered overhang outside the living room so we could watch the dozens of birds enjoy it. Some of those birds are now rare and seldom seen but whichever of us named the most species was given a reward. Because she was younger Doris was given a handicap but I didn't care as I always won anyway.

Our neighbor's children didn't have a sled and the only steep safe hill went in front of their house so I tried to go sledding when they were not around because if they were home Mother said I had to share and there was four of them and only one of me. Sister wasn't allowed on the hill and had to be satisfied with a big dish pan and the bank on our sideyard unless Mother found time to pull her in our homemade sled along our road.

Sunday nights in winter were always our favorite. The living room was opened – it was closed the rest of the week except Saturday when I had to vacuum and Doris dusted where she could reach. The piano was opened (though no one played worth a darn), Dad built a big fire in the fireplace and Mother brought in the tea tray with cinnamon toast and we settled into “One Man's Family” on the radio, later that program was not Dad's preference and we listened to President's Roosevelt's 'fireside chats.'

After Christmas we looked forward to Easter, spring and May Day. At Easter we were allowed to shop for bonnets for Easter Sunday. If money was short we went to Newberry's and purchased silk flowers and ribbons and I loved to redo last year's hats with the fresh materials. I liked them better than new ones and compared them with not so pretty ones all through church services, never hearing a word.

Grandmother incidentally insisted on a new bonnet each year even when she was in her late 90s in a rest home and couldn't attend church.