There are days like today, Tuesday, when the wind is blowing and the snow falling never seems to stop; when the snow drifts down and down and down like eider and it is work just to get to your car. Days like today that invite that batch of cookies you have been meaning to bake and a good, fragrant cup of coffee that sends up swirls of its own steam, looking for a moment to catch.
It is a day like today that nudges me to pull out The Long Winter by Laura Ingalls Wilder.
I baked the batch of cookies, settling with ingredients on hand. What should have been chocolate chip cookies were filled with some chips, some raisins, and some raisenettes – thanks Elaine, for that idea – and a cup of chopped nuts. They warmed the house and their sweet smell was tempting.
While waiting for the cookies to cool, I trudged upstairs to the kids’ room and pulled out The Long Winter from a shelf, and, because I’m a corny, old-fashioned, romantic sort of gal, I grabbed one of my shawls out of the closet and planned to hunker down for a few pages that tell of the 1880/81 blizzards in the Dakota Territory during that hard winter. So much snow fell that the Chicago and North Western Railroad was forced to shut down operations shortly before Christmas to the Dakota territory until spring.
Laura tells of such a train and how, when the snow finally melts in May and the train is finally dug out and makes it to town and its starving citizens who have endured the long winter. Pa Ingalls comes home with a barrel full of clothes and yarn and such and there on the bottom is their Christmas turkey, still frozen, with cranberries falling out of the brown paper wrapping. Do you know what they do? They invite their neighbors to come and celebrate the Christmas they missed six months before.
This book reminds me that winters have often been hard and that I am fortunate that I can sit here all warm with the home spun aroma of cookies baking and the glow of my computer screen keeping me in touch with the outside world.
Many years ago, Tom gave me the boxed set of the Little House books for Christmas and I spent the entire holiday season reading them. That set eventually became so worn from years of holding them and sharing them that it needed to be replaced. Katy has a set and when I visit I sneak a few pages in. Do you think she and her Tom suspect?
On my way back down from Minnesota one cold, cold winter about eight years ago, I stopped in Menominee, Wisconsin at the little museum there and picked up a tape of Laura Ingalls Wilder speaking to a group of children about her days growing up on the prairie. There I was, all by myself, rolling along Interstate 94, in as rapt attention as the children she was speaking to.
Visiting my very dear friend Jeri in Oklahoma even more years ago, we ventured to Independence, Kansas and the site where the Ingalls family once lived. Jeri remembered how much I loved the stories of Laura (and the television series) and so off we went, a drive of several hours as I recall with her two toddlers in the car. There is a replica of one of the Ingalls’ houses there, just outside of Independence, on property owned by Bill Kurtis. The house, so lovingly described in Little House on the Prairie, was so small and simple and left me pondering how the whole family fit in it, lived in it, and fostered a love that carried them through to other houses and long winters, plagues of grasshoppers and devastation of crops, and led Laura to one day pen her story, the story of so many pioneer families who worked the land and paved the way for future settlement. Laura Ingalls Wilder started writing the Little House books when she was in her early sixties. You might enjoy a little side trip to this website: www.littlehouseontheprairie.com/
I think I’ll munch on a cookie, made with those bits and morsels I had on hand, and sip something warm in the Little House mug I brought home to Tom from Independence. I’ll wrap myself in my shawl, all cozy and warm, and read a few chapters of The Long Winter. First, however, I’ll bundle up and brace myself as I venture down our long, long drive to the mailbox that hugs the road here on the cutoff and see if the mail came through.
Great post Penny! Although I loved “The Little House on the Prairie” tv show, it wasn’t until I was reading to my children that I finally read Laura Ingalls Wilder’s books. I’m not sure who enjoyed them more, me or the kids.
You really know how to make the best of the weather with your cookies, shawl and books! Even a Little House mug! I am looking forward to checking out that link.
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Thank you, Janet.
I didn’t discover the Little House books until I was in my early twenties and have loved them ever since. I enjoyed the series too, though they stretched the episodes a quite a bit. It still had the spirit of the books. I actually spent a good part of last night reading The Long Winter. A good cup of “tay” and my shawl will help me finish it up this afternoon.
Hope you are starting to feel better.
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I luv little house but it makes no sense that did not tellthe truth. Mary never was married . Alot of the show wasnt true. That upsets me because I wathch the show every day and dont know why they didnt make it right. Why would you say Mary had been married and had kids when she didnt.
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You are correct. It doesn’t Sharon, but remember the series is an adaptation of the books. Much of the series was not was in the books. I rarely like a movie or television series as much as I like a book.
The good thing about the series, however, is that it leads others to the books who might not otherwise read them. It sounds like you have enjoyed the books as much as have. I’ve actually visited several of the Little House sites.
Thank you for commenting.
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What a wonderful post and a reminder of some incredible childrens stories. I always secretly wanted to be like Laura, a little tomboy growing up with the joy and the dangers of nature all around and a wonderful family and stories and fiddles around the fire at night and a loyal dog named Jack. Now you’ve gone and made me start crying (or is that the hormones, I don’t know).
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Oh, Katy, you were a lot like Laura – a tomboy who loved nature, and still does. I think you had a pretty wonderful family with lots of stories around the table and eventually the big fireplace where “Ma” roasted chicken. Do you remember when I brought you home for Christmas break the first time? You walked in and saw something different before I did. While I was picking you up, your very own “Pa” was putting in a mantle to surprise me. Speaking of Pa, who was such a good helper to him, especially when the floods came? You. You didn’t have a dog, well, you did have Watch, but, like Laura, you have been a pioneer in many ways; leaving home for school far, far away, and going even further to CA for extra studies, and settling with your Tom in Minnesota, though not along the shores of Plum Creek, but, instead, the Mighty Mississippi! Your “Pa” doesn’t fiddle, but, he sure can strum a guitar. We won’t talk about the time your “Ma” tried to make a pumpkin pie from scratch, though.
Now, put those hormones back where they belong and read a few chapters of Little House . . .
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I love this post. I have read and worn out a couple of sets of the “Little House” books myself. I loved them as a child and as an adult. Do you remember the handwritten pages that were in the glass case in the library at ISU? I remember staring at them in amazement and thinking about the fascinating life she led and the beautiful way she described it.
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Oh, Janet, how did I miss the handwritten pages at ISU’s library? I loved kiddie lit classes, but I don’t remember the papers. I wonder if they are still there. Thank you for telling me about them.
Laura did lead a fascinating life, didn’t she? One of the places I want to see someday is her and Almanzo’s farm. I think it is called Rocky Ridge. She had such a wonderful spirit about her. Did you ever read her daughter’s book, Let the Hurricane Roar? Rose Wilder Lane.
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I’m not sure if I read Let the Hurricane Roar. I read some things by Rose a couple of years ago, but I can’t remember the name.
I’m not sure if the handwritten pages were a permanent display or not. I do remember that there was a plaque telling about Laura visiting ISU and giving a lecture. Oh, I was so jealous that it was before our time. Wouldn’t you have loved to meet her? I always felt like I knew her, she shared so much of her life.
I think Rocky Ridge is in Mansfield, Mo.
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Oh, yes, I would have loved to meet her and it would have been an extra bonus meeting her with you. In the pictures I have seen of her as an adult she always looks so pleasant and like someone I could have sat down with and had a real conversation.
I did a quick search on the computer and it looks like ISU has some of her papers and some research on her. Wouldn’t it be fun to see them, for you again, and just, well, just imagine?
I just ordered Owl Moon from the library this afternoon. I also ordered Uncle Emily.
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I don’t know Uncle Emily. It sound interesting.
Maybe we can get together sometime and talk over old and new times.
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I would love to! Sometime where school is out for the summer?
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Great! We’ll have more details later.
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[…] it around Thanksgiving. The illustrations in this edition, by Holly Johnson, are evocative of the Garth Williams pictures in the Little House books and remind me of Tasha […]
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[…] the Long Winter, which I have read again and again, the Ingalls spend the winter in town, where they and the […]
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[…] Better yet, forget my blog. Go right to the books, starting with Wilder’s Little House in the Big Woods. If you are stuck under several feet of snow, read about The Long Winter. […]
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[…] the vast prairies of the midwest in the second half of the 19th century. You know how I often read “The Long Winter” during snowstorms and of my visits to several of the Little House sites, most recently the one in […]
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Here in central Georgia, we rarely have a snowy winter. So when we have a cold snap, I love to make a cup of spiced tea, some homemade fudge or fruitcake cookies, get my well-worn copy of The Long Winter, wrap up in my fuzzy throw, and spend a cozy day reading that wonderful story. I marvel at how the Ingalls and their neighbors made it through. Thank you for sharing this.
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A perfect way to keep warm and snug when a cold snap appears. We are used to it here, but, I imagine it holds more sway in a warmer climate such as that of Georgia. You are very welcome and I thank you for visiting here, Allyson, and for taking the time to comment.
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