Not a great deal of work is going on at the moment… the boys each have small herds to feed in the morning. Every three days Vernon is on rotation to break ice for the cows in the badlands. Tractor upkeep, prepping for delivery of feed, and paperwork (plus some flu recovery) fill the days.
in that vein, I’ll pull out a story from some Greet family history.
In honor of the cold and inch of snow we received today… here’s a quote from James Greet’s Reminisces…
“There are special musical sounds known only to those who live in a cold climate, that are heard when the snow is deep and the thermometer is 40 below zero.
Us kids slept upstairs and I have laid in bed and listened to the telephone line “sing”. It would hum very faintly, at first, and then come on in getting louder and louder, until it seemed to be right by my bed where the line was fastened, and then start drifting off, again, to be repeated in a few minutes.
It seemed as though the moon and stars were extra bright with it being so clear and crisp. The ice on the creek would pop.
The snow gets very dry when it is so cold. When cows and horses are walking, their hoofs squeal and ring in the snow, and the same on the wagon or sled, they just sing along.
Of course, there are always the coyotes to “sing” to us with their musical group.
Then another favorite was the “hoot” of the large hoot owls that sat in the big cottonwood trees around the house and hooted to one another and to me.
Our bedroom windows would be all frosted over – but with such pretty designs!
One winter when I was eight or nine, it was real cold, and I frosted my feet while out doing chores after dark. By the time we walked three miles home from school, it was already dark. When I got through, mom had me put my feet in a tub of snow and water to thaw them out. I got in a hurry, and took my right foot out too soon. It blistered and peeled and “wept”. My socks would be wet every day and my shoe rotted away. In those days you weren’t “laid up” for minor things, life went on as usual.”
Find me here!
I remember the frosty patterns on the inside of my bedroom windows as a child in the 1950’s. Such amazing patterns. Those and long icicles have not been seen by many children of today.
This is a one of a kind history lesson! Such a beautiful window into the harshness and the beauty that is Wyoming.
He had a wonderful gift for writing! Please share more sometime.
Oh my goodness! What a hard life buts it sounds like he still found enjoyment in the nature that surrounded him. Thanks Carol for sharing.