Oldtimers have spent a few days this winter looking out their windows and thinking back to days when snowbanks were higher, trains were stranded and cold weather just didn’t seem as cold.
I guess I have become one of those oldtimers, sitting here working at the kitchen table and looking out the window, remembering winters of the past when mostly all I worried about was not being seen wearing a home-knit scarf or any other kind of cold weather apparel selected by the parent.
Perhaps the most embarrassing of all were those brown winter boots with the metal buckles that took forever to do up and then undo. But much worse was knowing they were really “boys’” boots and hoping the mean kids wouldn’t look closely enough at my feet to figure out the gender of my footwear. That would have been complete humiliation, even more humiliating than wearing boys’ skates because of my weak ankles. Such a rough childhood I had!
But winter in those days was a fun time — skating at the outdoor rink, sitting on a blanket on a snowbank watching the local men and boys play hockey, hanging out in the heated rink shack drinking hot chocolate and munching on a hot dog, sledding down the school hill, hitching up my dog to pull the sleigh and him running back home after I fell off in a snowbank.
Then there was throwing snowballs, making snow angels, playing fox and geese or jam can curling. Indoors at the curling rink it was a challenge to remember to let go of the rock before both of us crossed the hogline and then trying to get back onto my feet without looking at my brother who was shaking his head in despair.
Perhaps the most fun was driving the family car through snowdrifts, in winter storms and on icy roads, never ever worrying about making it home or to our destination safely.
But then I grew up, became an adult, aged some more and became aware of the dangers of winter, despite having all sorts of winter equipment in the car with us.
We sometimes ask each other why we drove to a rodeo in Regina in treacherous driving conditions and never doubted we would make it. Whereas today, being threatened by three snowflakes causes us to rush to the grocery store to stock up on milk, bread, juice, snacks and other necessities — just in case.
At my advanced age, I really don’t care how many layers of clothes I have to put on or peel off and gosh help me, but I do put up my parka hood to keep my ears from freezing. I’m sure my parents are doing a happy dance to note that I have become them.
I will give in on agreeing that pristine snow is a beautiful sight — on Christmas cards and falling somewhere else as reported on the news. It is even striking as it sits on the large evergreen trees across from our address. But the growing piles of snow around us though are not as Norman Rockwell in real life.
What really caught this oldtimer’s attention was noticing on an Internet site that those ugly winter boots with buckles are back in vogue, and wow, they even come in girls’ styles, as well as the traditional boys’ designs.
I will wear gloves, a scarf, a hat or even drive up the icy street when it is snowing, but I draw the line at boots with buckles, even ones that glitter and are described as glamourous by some fashionista who never had to wear the boys’ model of the ’50s.
Joyce Walter can be reached at [email protected]
The views expressed in this column are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect those of Moose Jaw Today, the Moose Jaw Express, its management, or its subsidiaries.
