We sure have had some snow up here in the north country. Well, it’s February. In Maine. What do we expect, right? January is cold and dry and February is a snowy mess. The worse is if you get on one of them “a snow storm every thirty-six hours” cycles, which we had a week or two ago, I think. It’s just a freezing, white blur, so it’s hard to remember. Snow storms are tough on Charlie’s back, my expectations, and both our waistlines. Charlie’s back because even with a plow on the truck, there are still paths to shovel and roofs to rake. My expectations because I’m the kind of person who looks forward …

When my sister Irene and me were kids, we had these little wooden snow scoops with our names painted on them that were made special just for us by our uncle, Octave Pease. They were just like our Dad’s, only a third the size, and we used to help him shovel the driveway. Which means we just got in the way, and made more of a mess for him to clean up! Octave: now there was a character. He come from a big family, I don’t know how many brothers and sisters. Octave never set foot in a school room, but he was smart as a whip. The kind of fella that could do anything …

Ida Leclair decides to embrace winter with the enthusiasm of a child.

January may have been long and cold, but God, didn’t it seem like we got a lot of snow in February? Charlie and me tried to make the best of it. I don’t go in for cross country skiing. Too steep a learning curve. But, I love snowshoeing. Well, I come from a long line of snowshoers, so it’s in my blood. I still have my mother’s snowshoes from when she was a kid. They were handmade by her uncle, Octave Pease. The webbing was made from the hide of a deer he shot himself. I get them out every winter for decoration. Octave: now there was a character. He came from a big family, …