Walter...

Winters were really fun for a little boy with a big imagination, but they also required a lot of preparation.  Prior to winter there were things you had to do to get ready.  I know more went on then I knew about, but one of the things was gathering all the vegetables from the garden and preparing them for canning.  One of the chores I helped with was to put the piece of log on a stump so they could split it.  Most of the time I was in school during the week and things just happened when I wasn't there.  Once the snow came, most things happened inside the house.
   I lived quite a way from the school and was the farthest stop on the bus route.  Two friends who lived across the street also got on the bus with me.  We had a large driveway and the bus would drive just past it, then back into the driveway to pick me up.  One day I wasn't paying attention and Walter, the bus driver, backed over my foot.  It really didn't hurt, scared me more than anything.  It was one of the back wheels and I guess the weight of the bus was supported by the inside wheel, so didn't crush my foot.
   Walter was an older gentleman who had the fortitude to be a bus driver, but the patience of someone who should have retired in Florida long before I started school.  Of course, this being the seventies, things were handled a lot differently back then.  When ever I got in trouble, and yes as hard as it is to believe I was a little trouble maker at some points in my life, Walter would make me sit on the steps to the bus.  And since I was one of the last ones to be picked up, that also made me one of  the last to get dropped off.  So depending on when I was busted by Walter, decided how long I was going to be on the step dealing with the other kids giving me crap as they past me getting on or off the bus.   Also, being from a small town, word would eventually get back to my Ma about my behavior.
   My favorite part of the bus rides had to be the bad roads of Maine and the very back of the bus.  Any kid you ask would let you know that the back of the bus is where to be, but especially when you hit a good bump.  And it didn't hurt to give a little boost with your legs at just the right moment to hurl you straight for the roof of the bus.  Several pot holes on old back roads increased this fact ten fold, and would sometimes lead me straight to the bus steps....