over the hill (we almost go) to Grandmother’s house in the snow…..

It’s true – the memories that come first to mind are the ones that, at the time, you would rather forget.

In about 1946 I think, at least it was after gas rationing, my father decided the family should make the trek “back east” so his folks could see the family from “out west”.

That was fine, except for the fact; no one in Southern California ever wore, much less bought a true “winter” coat.  Well, not until they hit Sears and Roebuck in Kansas City anyway and finally concluded a lightweight Southern California sweater just didn’t do the job.  Since time was lost shopping, it was decided to stay in a REAL hotel down town.  And that was fine until my mother turned back the blankets on the bed to find bugs scattering every which way!  That did it for my mother; we packed up, got back into the car (in our new warm coats) and went on our way to Minnesota.

Well grandma was happy to see her freezing grand daughters, loving son and ever-so miffed daughter in law.  We, my 7-year-old sister and I were invited on the toboggan by Minnesota winter toughened male cousins, who screamed “DUCK” as the vehicle was zipping under a barb-wire fence.  (That’s one way to make sure California cousins don’t come back!).  We were treated to a Christmas dinner, the likes we’d never seen before.  REAL butter (right from the cows out in the barn) and mounds of thick whipped cream on all the many pies made in the kitchen honest-to-goodness wood burning stove.

It truly was a Christmas to remember.

Oh yes, how could I forget when the car slid off the road outside Albuquerque and luckily hit a road sign before it continued over the hill!

(repeat third sentence above)

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