ON that SNOWY DAY.....

"Snow provokes responses that reach right back into childhood..." -Andy Goldsworthy

When the snow falls I remember  the winter before my dad died. When  there would be baking galore in the house. My dad home as he was not too well. I was 6. My mother working a great deal those days. She as seamstress for the Empress Hotel. She would leave my dad in charge.

When she was at work my dad would let me roll his cigarettes. He would always wait till my mother left. He taught me to stuff  cigarette papers with tobacco from his favourite tin, then roll it into a nice cylinder. We'd make a gazillion.

Then we would run out of papers. Then it was time to try the scones.

We pronounced it as "scawns" as my Scottish grandmother did.

 My dad and I would have "scawns" with morning tea. Scones slathered with butter and honey.

 He couldn't eat much, but he watched me eat them, my fingers sticky with honey and butter.

He thought I should try my hand at baking.

We laid out small tupperware bowls and flour. Then he decided he should lie down first.He left me alone in the kitchen .

 I figured.... why wait for him to get up from his nap? I had seen my mother bake. How hard could it be. I would surprise my dad with a cake.

So I got out the three small tupperware bowls, figured they were TOO small, and brought out my mother's bread bowl.

I plopped in a quantity of flour in each, filled them with water and stirred each one till there was wet dough all over the kitchen table and floor. I would  have to add more flour. 

I decided they weren't runny enough. So I carried over the tin of Olive Oil. Always reminded me of Popeye . I dumped in a good amount of oil.  Then stirred like crazy. It was runny and oily. Perfect.

I turned on the oven to 350. I knew how to do that. My mother used to dry  underwear inside the oven, till they were toasty and kind of crispy. So I decided if underwear was baked at 350 then a cake must be at 400......

In went the plastic bowls and the large mixing bowl of goo. And I waited. And waited. I watched cartoons.

After a time there was a smell. The tupperware bowls were sagging, melting. The large metal bowl was fine. I went and got my dad up. He looked at the melting bowls and the batter all over the oven floor. He looked at me. He told me we had to clean it up before my mother got home. Think think think.....

So we took the bowls and dumped the batter down the toilet in the bathroom.  Threw out the tupperware bowls in the garbage bag outside. He got me to wash the metal bowl.  I had to stand on a chair to reach the taps in the kitchen.He cleaned up the oven after it cooled down.

My mother arrived home with the evidence no where to be seen.  Except, that weekend, the toilet plugged up and overflowed with goo. Much to the surprise of my mother and the plumber who charged something like 70$. When  my mother asked dad, he just shook his head. " No idea," he managed to say. He gave me one of his long  looks. One of his looks which I still miss. But at the time we just giggled and giggled on that snowy day............. 

"My father didn't tell me how to live.....he lived , and let me watch him do it..." -Clarence Budington Kelland

Photographs 2021