get your Valentine a delicious gift & support relay for life!
crazY BirdS relay for life team chocolate coVered StraWBerrieS Facebook event page: NoW takiNgS! crazy Birds relay for life chocolate covered Strawberries pre-order or contact chantell kaylor (814) 952-6279
$12 Baker's dozen
Benefits relay for life
Jefferson Social hall (across from community center) Feb. 13 • Noon - 8 pm & Feb. 14 • 8 am to 8 pm limited quanities available at the door, first come first serve
local deliVerY to BuSiNeSSeS FeB. 13 order no later than Feb. 10th. orders after Feb. 10th - $13/bakers dozen
Happy Groundhog Day!
Jefferson County Housing Authority 201 N. Jefferson St. Punxsutawney (814) 938-7140
1039 Grant St. Reynoldsville (814) 653-7804
(814) 938-7140 • 1-800-585-5303 TTY/TDD #711 www.jeffcoha.com
Income Based Rental Apartments Section 8 Housing Choice Voucher Program
Amish Quilt & Craft
AuCTion SATurDAy, FeB. 1, 2014 l
1:00 p.m. United Methodist Church 201 Woodland Ave., Punxsutawney
noah Yoder PA Auctioneer Lic.
#AU005425
814-427-2243 12 – Hometown Punxsutawney – February 2014 - Issue #160
‘Snow’ is not a Continued from previous page
snowfall? Remember the days when you didn’t have to have a $300 to $500 snowboard, skis, and matching accessories— not to mention paying exorbitant prices to play in the fluff? Once, heavy snowfall meant there were snowmen to create, sleds to ride, forts to build, snowballs to throw, snow days to relish, and, well, just plain fun, not fear, of the new snow! I can still picture my dad dressed in his Marlon Brando undershirt and boxers, standing in front of our large picture window, as he gave me the local Punxsutawney weather forecast. Gosh! He was better than any news guy giving the weather on television today. Gazing out on our front lawn on Fairview Avenue, the street light at the end of the yard served as our measuring stick—our Doppler radar. If you studied the halo around the solitary, suspended light on the big wooden electric pole, you could actually tell the rate and consistency of the white stuff. With the help of that light, my dad always gave a fairly accurate prediction—dare I say, the equal of or better than that of Punxsutawney Phil. “Well, honey,” Daddy mused and scrutinized the outside situation. “It looks like you’re not gonna have any school tomorrow.” Excited by the thought of a day without school—a day where I could hang out with my friends or play outside and freeze myself until I was forced to come in and warm up. “Are you sure, Dad? I persisted. “You really think so?” “Oh, yeah. Maybe two days off,” Dad said, whispering a reaffirmation of his prognostication. I would hit the sack with a smile on my little face, planning all kinds of stuff to do on a snow day. The next day usually proved him right; Mom and Dad made plans to address the question, “Who is going to watch my kid?” Daddy heaved me up on his shoulders and strode through the deep drifts in the back of the yard, between Bessie Corey’s house and Featherston’s brick home and onto the other road that led down to the Highway Department. I loved it, as he mushed though the knee-high mounds of heavy wet snow, and we laughed and chatted the whole way to our destination. My parents’ friends, the Pifers, always good-naturedly agreed to let me be their snow guest for the day, and my childhood chum, Lou Ellen, and I
played all day. Doll babies, board games, potato chips and dip, tomato soup, grilled cheese sandwiches, and giggles filled the gloomy light of a snowy day until my father picked me up later in the afternoon. Those cold winter evenings, with the sparkly diamond-like snow packed hard on the road past our house—the road that led to the Circle Hill Cemetery—on Fairview Avenue, all the neighbors screamed down the little hill on their Western Flyers. Thanks to the kindness of neighbors, we occasionally had the road closed to traffic for the funfest! Young and old alike enjoyed the double-dip hill, as they started their engines up by the top, near Route 36. Sleds and flying saucers rocketed down the little street amid squeals of delight under the yellow glimmer of the old street lights. My dad, snow aficionado, loved sledding more than most of the kids those nights, as he lay flat on his stomach on the sled’s wooden planks with me balanced on his back or perched in front of him. Just like the Grinch and Max the Dog heading down Mount Crumpet to Who Ville, we sailed down the slippery slope, careful not to crash into the other night flyers or wreck into a giant drift. In a few days, when the snow became nice and mushy, it was the perfect white modeling clay for sculpting the best snowmen in town! My mom, who had capabilities and powers equal to that of my father’s snow forecasting, had an uncanny sense of knowing the perfect day and perfect snow for constructing our snow sculptures. She could flawlessly roll giant balls of the heavy wet stuff and heave one on top of the other for the snowman’s torso. Amazed by her heavy construction worker skills in the snow, I would try to help, tottering a bit as I used all my muscle power to help move the colossal mounds of snow. Of course, my favorite part was embellishing the frozen figures with a carrot for the nose and some stones for the eyes and mouth. Carefully selecting small brown rocks from our window wells, I longed for the “two eyes made out of coal” that Jimmy Durante sang about in Frosty the Snowman. Oh well, I suppose the rocks served just as well, and Mom and I positioned the things, sometimes adding a broom. Frequently, we made a whole snowman family! Late on a winter day, the snowplow cruised down the road in front of our house, making delightful, huge mounds of chunky snow, higher than my head, and - Continued on page 14
Personal Care at Christ The King Manor is always personal!
Christ the King Manor www.christthekingmanor.org
814-371-3180 1100 West Long Ave., DuBois
For more information, call 814-371-3180 and request more information on PERSONAL CARE as performed by the professionals at Christ The King Manor.