S'no Fun

S'no Fun

I don’t know where you are right now but I’m sitting at my desk with my back to the

studio window.  Shame.  Not that I’m at my desk, but that I’ve chosen to stare at the clock on my wall rather than the window.  Had I swiveled my chair 90 degrees to the left (or 90 degrees to the right, depending on my dominant side du jour) I could be looking out at the snow.

It is gorgeous out there with the ground covered in a couple of inches of the first snow fall I’ve been able to enjoy this season. (The first big one having been in October and the next six or so inches of snow graced us when Joe and I were away).

And I’m in here at my desk.

There is something definitely wrong with this picture.

Every winter Joe and I eagerly turn on the Weather Channel in hopes that we’re in for a serious snowstorm. Like two little kids we stare at the television screen, or the computer, to find out how much snow we might be in store for us. Bring it on.  The more snow the better. 

Now, this begs the question; why, if I am lusting after several feet of snow am I sitting at my desk and not even looking at it? 

The answer; because I don’t remember how to have fun in the snow.

One weekend last winter we had three of our grandchildren here while their parents took a well-deserved vacation. To our delight the heavens opened up on that Saturday morning and delivered a dusting of snow.  It wasn’t much and only covered the driveway of our house, disappearing into the grass as quickly as it fell.  Yet Alix knew exactly what to do.  She hurriedly donned her jacket, boots, hat and gloves, went out into the garage, grabbed the shovel and proceeded to scoop up the snow in the driveway.  And then she built a snowman; perhaps the tiniest snowman in the universe.  As I think about it, I realized I missed an opportunity to photograph it and submit this teensy weensy snowman to the Guinness Book of World Record folks. (However, the heat from the camera lens would have probably melted the poor little fellow, so it’s a good thing I didn’t try.) Alix definitely knew how to have fun in the snow.  If she were here with me now I bet my chair wouldn’t be facing away from the window.  Nor would I be in my studio. I strongly suspect that I’d be building a snowman with her.  Or sledding.  Or making snow angels.

Why is it that adults need children in our lives to play?   Do we need them for support or permission?  Would others look askance if we were to put on our winter gear and throw snowballs at the trees?  Well, I for one am not going to let this wonderful weather event pass me by.  It’s s’no fun sitting in here with my back to the window.

I’m going out right now to build the biggest snowman I can.  Hopefully our adult neighbors realize they can do the same.  And then the “biggest snowman on the block contest” will begin! 

I’m about to transform s’no fun to snow fun.  Come join me!