Prairie Grass by Joan Soggie

Author:Joan Soggie
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: epic of the19th and 20th century canadian prairie, first nations and metis and settler, human belonging to their environment, pioneerindigenous relationship, spiritual connection to the land, western plains historical fiction, young woman befriends hundredyearold man
Publisher: BWL Publishing Inc.

Eric (1949)

The winter had been brutal.

Catherine buckled galoshes over her shoes and pulled on Eric’s second-best winter jacket. It was warmer than her own coat, and the way the snow was slapping against their ice-shrouded windows, she felt in need of every bit of protection she could muster.

“I’m getting the wash off the clothesline before it blows into next week,” she told Carol. “Make sure that James or the girls don’t get too rambunctious and start running around the heater.”

The kids were kept home from school often this winter. It had been way too cold to send them out on horseback. Seeing they did not fall behind in reading and arithmetic had been added to her other jobs. Keep the house warm, keep from freezing. Keep the propane heater and the coal and wood stove burning but keep her babies and her house from being burned. Always busy, keeping her family fed, warm, clean and happy. Keep on keeping on.

That’s what we are, in winter. Keepers. Eric keeps the animals fed and watered, keeps the generator and windmill working, keeps the barbwire phone connected so we can call on a neighbour in emergency or loneliness or to share a funny story. We need to keep on going and wait for spring.

The frozen laundry did not flap in the wind. Instead, the shirts and towels swayed crazily like cardboard cutouts. Catherine carefully pried clothespins loose from the ice gluing them to the sheets and eased the frozen fabric from the line. Pants and shirts, she stacked on top of the sheets, carrying the frozen heap like cordwood back through the snowdrifts to the house. Her face felt bitten by the wind and her hands ached from the cold.

When did winter stop being fun? I used to love tobogganing, ice skating, singing in the sleigh as we drove across the fields to Grandma and Grandpa’s. Helping Mama bake cookies, Daddy reading to us by lamplight in the evening.

The door banged behind her and she heard the tinkle of the piano and children singing. Carol was playing one of the tunes Grandma Tollerud taught her. Catherine dropped her frozen bundle on the kitchen linoleum and peeled off her boots.

Jingle bells, jingle bells, jingle all the way. Kathy had a nice clear voice for a six-year-old, and Carol could even harmonize a little. Johanna joined in enthusiastically and tunelessly. James chanted Jingle jingle jingle and pounded on the only keys his pudgy fingers could reach.

Catherine laughed at them from the doorway to the living room. The girls turned and beamed at her, and little James ran to hug her as gleefully as if his mother had been gone for days instead of a few minutes.

“Oh, what beautiful music! Keep on playing, Carol. That is just what we need on a cold winter afternoon.”

She turned back to the kitchen, swinging James as he clung to her swollen middle. Only another six weeks until the baby is due. And if this winter continues as nasty as it’s begun, it would be crazy to start out for town with me in labour.

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.