Wow, so it has been a LONG time since I have posted, and that's for a few reasons. 1. I've been a little distracted by a certain person lately. Yes, that's still going well. 2. I've actually been sick for the last week and a half, with a simple cold-turned-acute-viral-laryngitis-with-asthma-exacerbation. My voice has gone between slightly strained, Roz (ala Monster's, Inc.), James Earl Jones, and...threshold of death. 3. I have been experiencing a severe carpal tunnel flare-up in my right hand because of my job, and as a result, not only have I given my notice (I work next week, and then am done...currently looking for another job!), but I don't usually feel much like typing when I don't have to. Thrilling. Fortunately, the Prednisone I got for my laryngitis and asthma has helped my wrist, so I thought I'd take the opportunity to write a post or two.
Today, I woke up to a fresh blanket of snow, and more coming down. Still feeling wretched, and not having gotten much sleep (thank you, Asthma), the last thing I wanted to do was go to work. And snow days are the BEST days for lounging around in bed. But, one of the things my dad had to pass down to me was his work ethic. So, while calling in would have been ENTIRELY reasonable, between the snow and being sick, I didn't. I bundled up, put on my Jayne hat, and trounced off into the snow. The roads were a mess, and I got to work 6 minutes late, but my manager was just happy I got here at all. Usually, Friday mornings are hopping. But thus far, I have seen exactly one customer.
So I sit here, and think again, back to some of my favorite days of childhood. Somehow, when snow falls, all seems right with the world. It's always been like that for me. No matter what hell may be going on, snow softens the blow. Weeks ago, I posted about my favorite snow day memories, and my cousin Josh commented and reminded me of some others. Josh's grandmother, Ethel, is my mom's older and closest cousin. Josh and I are just a few weeks apart in age, and we were always around the Hitch family, so I became an honorary grandchild, and grew up closer to the Hitch clan than my own first cousins. Ethel and her husband, Ken, lived on a farm in Northern Kentucky, filled with lots of hills. They lived an hour away, but my family and I, and sometimes, I alone, could be found at The Farm at any given time, for any given reason.
Snow days at the farm were awesome. Ethel's daughter, Paula, lived on the farm as well with her 4 kids, her daughter Karin lived just down the road with her son, and her son Gerry, lived just in town, a few minutes away. All the kids would make their way to the farm, and we would go pick our sleds out of the big red barn, and pick our hill. Usually, it came down to the best hill that the cows were NOT on. Now let me tell you something about sledding in a cow pasture. It can get REALLY bumpy. Cow pies? Yeah...they freeze really hard, and you can't see them under the snow. It can make for some interesting times. Even if it's really cold, if the sun is hitting just right, it can kinda melt the cow pies, and then, well, let's just hope you don't end up wiping out on top of one. Cause that's almost worse than getting caught in the creek at McEvoy.
We'd pick our sleds and hill, and usually Ethel would come out with her video camera, all bundled up, and film us and our fun. For a few years, she'd even hop on a sled herself with us for a few runs. Sometimes, Deron and Andrew would make a ramp, and we'd have fun launching off of that. The little kids would usually climb on with a bigger kid, and we'd all do our best to bail before running into the brush and barbed wire at the bottom of the hill. After a while, we'd usually trudge through the snow to Paula's house, where she'd make us lunch- usually grilled cheese- and send us back outside to play. A few hours later, we'd go back, and she'd have freshly baked snickerdoodles and hot chocolate for us to eat. Then we'd usually go upstairs and watch a movie, or go to Ethel's and play Nintendo, or do...whatever.
By the time I was sledding at the farm, while I was still pretty young, my siblings were already gone. The vast majority of my adventures with the Hitch kids included just me. But they always welcomed me into their family and into their homes. I have countless memories with each of the kids, and at each of their houses. Sleepovers, wrestling matches, babysitting, bailing hay, climbing in the hay barn, Christmas Eve, Thanksgiving, Easter egg dying, corn picking and shucking, camping, bonfires, fireworks....you name it. For most of my life, the farm was always a safe and happy place, even for this confirmed city girl. Not that life there was perfect. It wasn't. But it was good.
Now we're all grown and gone. Every one of us. Even Nicholas, the baby, is in college. Several of us have one or more college degrees, two are married, one has a toddler, one has a baby on the way. One is in the Marines, and a couple are finishing up their degrees. We're all adults. We've all faced our struggles and our triumphs. A couple of us are approaching middle age faster than we'd like to admit. Ken has been gone for nearly three years, and Ethel just turned 80. Life goes on. But I'm always going to have those memories. I'll always remember sledding and snowball fights with the Hitch crew. That's one part of my childhood that remained mostly unsoiled by the traumas and horrors of life. They were always there when we needed them. The way the Hitch family took care of us when my brother died is something I'm never going to forget. The way they've always just included us. Included me.
So today, while I struggle to breathe, and force myself through my work day, and deal with my sore and swollen throat, I'll still look out the window and smile. I'll smile because I can't help but think about those days, sledding at McEvoy, and the farm. And those memories...those memories are, quite simply, good.
Today, I woke up to a fresh blanket of snow, and more coming down. Still feeling wretched, and not having gotten much sleep (thank you, Asthma), the last thing I wanted to do was go to work. And snow days are the BEST days for lounging around in bed. But, one of the things my dad had to pass down to me was his work ethic. So, while calling in would have been ENTIRELY reasonable, between the snow and being sick, I didn't. I bundled up, put on my Jayne hat, and trounced off into the snow. The roads were a mess, and I got to work 6 minutes late, but my manager was just happy I got here at all. Usually, Friday mornings are hopping. But thus far, I have seen exactly one customer.
So I sit here, and think again, back to some of my favorite days of childhood. Somehow, when snow falls, all seems right with the world. It's always been like that for me. No matter what hell may be going on, snow softens the blow. Weeks ago, I posted about my favorite snow day memories, and my cousin Josh commented and reminded me of some others. Josh's grandmother, Ethel, is my mom's older and closest cousin. Josh and I are just a few weeks apart in age, and we were always around the Hitch family, so I became an honorary grandchild, and grew up closer to the Hitch clan than my own first cousins. Ethel and her husband, Ken, lived on a farm in Northern Kentucky, filled with lots of hills. They lived an hour away, but my family and I, and sometimes, I alone, could be found at The Farm at any given time, for any given reason.
Snow days at the farm were awesome. Ethel's daughter, Paula, lived on the farm as well with her 4 kids, her daughter Karin lived just down the road with her son, and her son Gerry, lived just in town, a few minutes away. All the kids would make their way to the farm, and we would go pick our sleds out of the big red barn, and pick our hill. Usually, it came down to the best hill that the cows were NOT on. Now let me tell you something about sledding in a cow pasture. It can get REALLY bumpy. Cow pies? Yeah...they freeze really hard, and you can't see them under the snow. It can make for some interesting times. Even if it's really cold, if the sun is hitting just right, it can kinda melt the cow pies, and then, well, let's just hope you don't end up wiping out on top of one. Cause that's almost worse than getting caught in the creek at McEvoy.
We'd pick our sleds and hill, and usually Ethel would come out with her video camera, all bundled up, and film us and our fun. For a few years, she'd even hop on a sled herself with us for a few runs. Sometimes, Deron and Andrew would make a ramp, and we'd have fun launching off of that. The little kids would usually climb on with a bigger kid, and we'd all do our best to bail before running into the brush and barbed wire at the bottom of the hill. After a while, we'd usually trudge through the snow to Paula's house, where she'd make us lunch- usually grilled cheese- and send us back outside to play. A few hours later, we'd go back, and she'd have freshly baked snickerdoodles and hot chocolate for us to eat. Then we'd usually go upstairs and watch a movie, or go to Ethel's and play Nintendo, or do...whatever.
By the time I was sledding at the farm, while I was still pretty young, my siblings were already gone. The vast majority of my adventures with the Hitch kids included just me. But they always welcomed me into their family and into their homes. I have countless memories with each of the kids, and at each of their houses. Sleepovers, wrestling matches, babysitting, bailing hay, climbing in the hay barn, Christmas Eve, Thanksgiving, Easter egg dying, corn picking and shucking, camping, bonfires, fireworks....you name it. For most of my life, the farm was always a safe and happy place, even for this confirmed city girl. Not that life there was perfect. It wasn't. But it was good.
Now we're all grown and gone. Every one of us. Even Nicholas, the baby, is in college. Several of us have one or more college degrees, two are married, one has a toddler, one has a baby on the way. One is in the Marines, and a couple are finishing up their degrees. We're all adults. We've all faced our struggles and our triumphs. A couple of us are approaching middle age faster than we'd like to admit. Ken has been gone for nearly three years, and Ethel just turned 80. Life goes on. But I'm always going to have those memories. I'll always remember sledding and snowball fights with the Hitch crew. That's one part of my childhood that remained mostly unsoiled by the traumas and horrors of life. They were always there when we needed them. The way the Hitch family took care of us when my brother died is something I'm never going to forget. The way they've always just included us. Included me.
So today, while I struggle to breathe, and force myself through my work day, and deal with my sore and swollen throat, I'll still look out the window and smile. I'll smile because I can't help but think about those days, sledding at McEvoy, and the farm. And those memories...those memories are, quite simply, good.
