The mercury hit 57 today and may make it even higher tomorrow.

That is what you call a January Thaw!

Thing is, there’s nothing to thaw. No snow since last month, and even then, not much to brag about here in southern Indiana.

No doubt that will change in the coming weeks and I’ll eat my words, crunching on icicles all the while.

Growing up in western Massachusetts, we had a January thaw each year. The best part (next to not having numb knees following the one-mile walk to school in a uniform skirt) was the driveway.

Can’t see the driveway in this photo? That’s the whole point. We had so many heavy snowfalls that the snow just packed down. We had snow tires for our car. I don’t remember, though, if Dad put chains on them. Other drivers did, though, which was no doubt hell on the roads. They did give off a cheery “ching-ching-ching” sound, though.

During the January thaw, Dad would gather the three older children and we’d head outside to chop away the built-up snow on the driveway. We stayed warm with all the exertion used to carve away the packed snow, which was eight inches in height, I seem to recall. I found it gratifying, and wonder if Harry and Dave have the same memories.

In 2002, Mom wrote a poem called “January Thaw.” A double entendre, as she referenced her sometimes-strained teenaged relationship with Grandma. When your mother proclaims you a “good girl” with impossibly high expectations, it can get old.

January Thaw

The one I remember
was a high school afternoon
after finding the green gown
in a fine store on sale
the walk in the park
where the sun was
and the snow gone
and my Mother smiling beside me

~ joan vayo ~ January 1, 2002

Here’s Grandma with her two daughters, Bunny and Joan. They’re in the dining room in their home on Chatham Street in New Haven, Connecticut.

It looks like Bunny is heading out to a dance!

Could this possibly be the green gown from “January Thaw”?

Mom and Grandma settled into a comfortable adult mother-daughter relationship as the years passed.

And what about the next generation? I don’t recall Mom ever telling me I was a “good girl” or demanding perfection of her only daughter. Whew!

She did rely on me, though, to thaw out the freezer part of our fridge back in the ’60s. Prying out chunks of ice that had rendered the freezer half its original size … well, I found that oddly gratifying as well.

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“January Thaw” ©2002  Joan Vayo. All rights reserved.

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