First, a shout out to Aunt Dorothy...my one and only fan who reads my blog. I'm giving her a huge woo hoo for that. Now, on to the snow. I know, snow is snow--it's not that exciting. But my kids would beg to differ. They love the snow. I remember loving the snow too when I was a kid. So what changes through morphing into adulthood? Why now do I cringe when I open the door quickly to throw something into the recycling bin on the porch, thinking I want to be as far away from the white stuff as possible? I don't know. I think it just comes down to body changes that make me cold. I think kids have so much strength in their little bodies to keep them warm and energetic (very energetic) and as adults, we lose that special energy, whatever it might be. In any event, I can go out in the stuff, I just have to be wrapped up like a fleece mummy in order to endure it. The other day I shoveled the walks for myself and my neighbor. I came in and the boys asked me where I'd been. I told them I'd been out shoveling. "YOU--in the snow?" Evan said. I'm just trying to keep them guessing.
The snow today is of record breaking proportions. It snowed all day yesterday, all day today and even as we trickle into night, small fluffs of snow continue to gently graze the massive piles that have already amassed. Am I in Alaska? I look at the neighbors outside the window. They look like Monopoly pieces on a snowy game board. They're tiny compared to the massive piles. But what's really great about the snow---neighbors talking to other neighbors. My son was out there shoveling our walk today. And he's out telling our neighbor Linda all about the snow in Alaska. He doesn't remember of course. But he hears me tell stories and he relates them to her. Everyone comes together during a crisis. It's great to see. And it's nice to see my son forming a relationship with this lady who just last summer really chapped his hide. He wanted to plant an apple seed in the front yard in an old area where the grass doesn't grow. It's a kid thing. And she watched him like a hawk from the window and the moment his fingers hit dirt, it was like slow motion The Matrix--he looked up as he heard her door open and down those stairs she came and laid into him about digging up the dirt and planting a seed. I know she doesn't mean to be so condescending. But she's older and single and has nothing better to do. So it warmed my heart to see them out there sharing a common task together and being able to relate to each other. Love the snow for that reason. Maybe if it snowed in Iraq and Iran and Pakistan, they could all come out and help each other shovel and tell stories about what the other has experienced and form a bond. I think it's a great idea. Everyone pray for snow in the Middle East.
