We’ve actually got proper snow here in Exeter so a happier memory from a better time would seem to be appropriate. This little story is from the winter of 1962/63 one of the worst and longest winters ever known in this country.
We’d moved to our new house at the end of the summer and even though we didn’t have central heating the whole place just seemed warmer, possibly because we now had windows that fit properly and didn’t spend the winter sitting in draughts. We still used hot water bottles to warm the beds up which I liked as it was nice to have something warm to snuggle up with until I fell asleep. Of course that meant coming half awake at about 11 or so still cuddling a now freezing cold bottle but it was worth it, when you’re considered too old for a teddy bear it’s nice to still have something to cuddle.
It started snowing on Boxing Day and by late morning there was a mass snowball fight involving every kid in the village as well as some of the grown ups, sides got a bit confused after about 10 minutes and it degenerated into one on one battles with my best friend and I attacking anyone in range including each other. When we got called in for lunch I realised just how brilliant our new home was, the Rayburn made the kitchen warm and I ended up cheerfully stripped down to underwear while I waited for my turn at the ultimate luxury, a hot bath with nobody watching me. This was living!
Day after day the snow kept coming down and our new next door neighbour, the man who would become my Step Father, decided to make us a sledge which only took him a morning. Of course, it had to have a name and thinking back perhaps we could have come up with a better one than “Gee Whizz” but at the time it was our best effort and ten minutes later there it was, emblazoned on both sides of the sledge in bright red letters. Naturally it had to be tried out immediately and he took us out to the back fields which had what to me seemed a precipitous slope down towards the brook. Being a somewhat timid child I was absolutely terrified during the first descent and clung on to the bigger sister who was “driving” so tight that she told me off, after that I was a lot less scared though and started to enjoy it. We were out there until our future Dad decided that the light was getting too poor for safety and that we were getting a bit too cold so home we went for hot drinks and another wonderful hot bath.
When I visited my parents for Christmas some 15 years later that sledge was still in the garden shed a permanent and, for me, poignant reminder of happier and more innocent times. I sometimes wonder if it didn’t serve the same purpose for my parents.
Love
I suspect winter and snow brings out the inner kid in us all, whether we want it or not. Nowadays I try to avoid sledging though, but it’s only out of sheer practical reasons… I always hurt my butt so bad in the slope!
So yes, probably your sledge was kept out of nostalgia. And who knows, maybe your parents went out for a ride when nobody was looking?
Love
Daniel
What a wonderful image that conjours up! Now I want to believe it
Love
Malcolm
That’s so sweet, sometimes the smallest things can remind us of a nice event, or a good memory.
Kind of balances out the other stuff and reminds me that there were good times
I think Gee Whizz is a great name. Great story – kids being kids.
Thinking about it that was a pretty good name