Snowy Childhood

One of the happiest memories of my childhood was driving with my parents and siblings from our suburban home in NY to visit my parents artist friends. When they weren't traveling the world they lived in North Brookfield Massachusetts. One snowy weekend we skidded on one of the rural roads and got stuck in two snow banks, one in front and one in back but we were rescued by a stranger. This was before the major highways to that area and before cars had front wheel drive. We did arrive safely in our woodie Ford station wagon with red interior. That weekend my parents were happy and the adults laughed and told stories. Music from Panama played on the record player. We sat at the table and listened to the stories, eating by candle light. The next day we played in the snow and when we were frozen we came inside and got warm by the small potbelly wood stove in the kitchen. We made snow ice cream from cream and sweetened raspberries. We loved sledding and skiing down their big hill. We drank Ovaltine for the first time. We ate Walnut Acres 12 grain porridge at 6 AM. It was all a thrill for us. The house smelled New England; of books, wood stoves, and exotic spices. My sister and I had our Barbie dolls and we camped out in the darkroom. We played with, lumps of clay warming it over the heating grates in the floor. We napped in the scriptorium!