The Willard Inn~ A Brutal Winter
By
Doreen Frost
Hannah
woke in the middle of the night to the hush brought on by snow. Graham lay next to her, a mere lump under the
large pile of quilts. He had only come
to bed a short time ago but was already deep in sleep. This winter had been the coldest they had
ever experienced, and, for that reason, their routines had changed much! Not wanting the fires to die down, as they
typically would overnight, he was now staying up into the small hours to keep
them going strong. Hannah lay there, feeling his warmth next to her, grateful
he was getting some much needed rest.
Though
Graham had stoked the fires just recently, Hannah could still feel a deep cold
seeping into the room. Despite the many
efforts they had made over the last two months of bitter, bitter cold, it still
managed to force its way into their home through the olde windows and doors and
anywhere else it could manage. They,
along with everyone else they knew, had rolled fabric and placed it beneath the
doors, and hung quilts or blankets, if they could spare them, over each of their
windows.
Winters
in New England could certainly be harsh but this one was particularly
brutal. Three feet of snow lay thickly
over every surface, and though it presented challenges as far as getting
around, it was welcome during this winter of brutality, as it helped to
insulate the homes and barns. Hannah and
Graham spent these winter days like their neighbors, doing all they could to
keep themselves and their animals warm and fed.
Everyone in the little New England village had suffered, some most
desperately, but the town had come together and helped one another so that
everyone was faring well now. People
with a little more shared with those who needed it; food, clothing, shelter,
wood & encouragement. Neighbor was
helping neighbor in the most wonderful way making a very difficult time, a
little easier to bear.
Hannah,
now fully awake, sat up and eased her way out from under the quilts and woolen
blankets and lit the bedside lamp. A
warm glow encircled the room as she tucked the quilts more snuggly around
Graham. She put another pair of wool
leggings on, under her flannel nightgown, slid her stockinged feet into her
slippers, put on her robe, and wrapped her wool shawl around her shoulders. Taking the lantern, she made her way down the
stairs, through the quiet house, and into the warmth of the kitchen. She put the kettle on for coffee, lit
candles, and lanterns, and tended the wood stove in the main part of the house
before returning to the kitchen to fill the cookstove and add wood to the great
stone fireplace.
When
the coffee was ready, she fixed herself a cup, spread butter and jam on a
biscuit, and pulled her rocking chair closer to the hearth. She laid a blanket across her lap and took
her stitching from its basket. She had
been working on a new rug, this one made from small and medium circles cut from
olde woolens that were no longer able to be made into anything else. She had gathered the faded greens, reds,
browns, and creams and stitched them together, placing smaller circles on top
of larger ones, creating small stitched “stacks”. Once the stacks were all stitched, she laid them out on the table and pinned the stacks in rows of different sizes,
onto a burlap backing. She took a sip of
the hot coffee, and a bite of biscuit and laid the rug across her lap, and
smiled contentedly to herself. Her
stitching is always a wonderful distraction during difficult times.
Far
too quickly the warmth of the fire began to recede as the cold began to make
its way across the kitchen floor, wrapping itself around Hannah’s ankles. She
stood up, placed her stitching on the table, and made her way from fire to fire,
this time filling each one heavily with wood.
After making sure the doors and windows were covered snugly, she returned
to the kitchen, made herself another cup of coffee, and took up her stitching
again. She would continue her fireside vigil for another hour, and then, as
dawn approached, she would put a pot of beans on the fire, start a batch of
hearth bread and put some bacon to fry.
The kitchen would be welcoming and snug when Graham awoke after another
short night. ~ by Doreen Frost
*This
story appeared in the January/February issue of The Little Brown House Gazette
~ I
thought it would be fun to share it here with all of you, as I incorporated
this penny rug into the story & included this story, in the pattern :).
IN THE MOSSY WOOD ~ a wool applique pattern, is now available on my website :).
Greetings friends ~ It is GOOD to see you. It has been far too long since my last blog post. I have lots of updating to do and more blog posts to share with you ~ stay tuned. Enjoy the day, Doreen
