Snow |
The year of Our Lord 1956 is remembered in San Bernardino for a sudden, freakish fall of several inches of snow in the arid valley. It was still coming down when
Pappy headed for work that
morning. If he looks somehow betrayed, that’s no accident: he
chose San Bernardino in large
measure to escape snow. Mostly successfully.
Behind Pappy, we see a corner of the home of the Gravettes, our neighbors to the west, a sweet older couple. He was Harvey. Their place, fronting on Waterman Avenue, still (2003) stands, as does the Tjossems’. Both, alas, in sadly deteriorated condition. We installed and nurtured English ivy on the westward fence and on the strip of ground between it and the driveway. It prospered (except for one famous episode with the telephone company) and harbored innumerable snails. Having put out, sporadically, snail-baits of a toxic sort, we never did experiment with the culinary possibilities, although we toyed with the idea. We cherished our Francophile credentials, after all. |
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Updated Dec 2013 | [2020mSnow.htm] | Page 2-032 |