Sounds of the Our Town
We live on one of the thoroughfares of our town and our home is about 24′ from that thoroughfare. There is noise 24/7. As it were, we do become accustomed to whatever passes by. The trains pass by a block to the north around the clock. The trains need to blow their whistle each time they cross over an intersection. I rarely hear them.
What I do clearly hear is the lone snowmobile that has taken to whipping around our neighborhood. There is an ordinance prohibiting them in town. I believe this is a young fellow that lives east of us and thrives on taking his chances of making a whip every once in awhile after dark.
The noise of that snowmobile doesn’t bother me much as it brings back the times and memories of when my dad bought a snowmobile on the farm. Dad was moving right on up. For him it was an easy way in the winter to get from their farm retirement home to a bit up the gravel road where my brother was on the home farm place. Dad was always on hand to give a hand when Michael needed it.
Needless to say this brought on an entire new dimension when the grandsons came to visit grandpa and grandma during the winter months. It gave dad a kick to share his toy. There was no end to the fields that the boys could travel. I am sure there were some outrageous experiments and adventures that were not shared when it was time to call it a day and the snowmobile was parked. Boys will be boys.
I do know that my sister’s family also had a snowmobile, but it wasn’t the same when we visited and my sister’s two boys and Kevin took theirs out. Uncle Orville’s take on letting the boys enjoy the experience and fun was different than grandpa’s. As it turned out . . . no one ever came back bleeding or with broken bones.
I have never been on a snowmobile and I am just fine with that. I was more into making snow angels in the snow . . . either by design or just as often . . . accidently. For those that have a sled, I know it must be a good adventure gliding over the fields of white snow where no one else has traveled. When I was younger I was a chicken and now I love my titanium knees too much.
Today I checked often from the sewing studio to try and catch a glimpse of the sun . . . not much to glimpse. The wind and the milder temps did allow a few ice cycles to fall. Dennis went to the corner store after lunch. The way people were stocking up and gassing up, you’d have thought the blizzard of the century was about to happen. That may well be what is coming, I will wait to be surprised. The amount of snow that we may get will definitely alter the sounds of our town.
The picking of the stiches today went smoothly. My comeback on this project is stronger than the setback. Several more days and I will have the project ready for the next attempt. I do think of that “next” often as I sit and pick.