I grew up in the snow. Every morning, about a half hour before leaving the house, I would go outside and use a push broom to remove snow drifts from my car. Then, with frozen hands, I would turn the key in the ignition to give the engine plenty of time to warm up. With my car running, I would go back inside and finish getting ready for school.
That was ages ago, now. Another lifetime, so it seems. It has been years since I last laid eyes on snow, or touched it with my bare fingers, or caught it on my tongue. It has been years since hearing the deafening silence of a world under snow, and the crunch of boots on a well-beaten path of snow. Too many years.
So you can imagine my elation last weekend when our family took a road trip to "Snow Mountain" for a day of freezing cold fun. I munched wasabi peas and squealed with delight from the passenger seat of our van as we ascended the mountain into the snow! When we piled out of the van, my kids weren't sure what to make of the stuff, but I patiently showed them how to build a snowman, make snow angels, and put on a pair of mittens. A frosty, happy time was had by all, especially one 32-year-old Michigander who forgot, if even for the day, that I wasn't a kid anymore.
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| Dog sledding! |
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| His first snowball! |
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| She was grumpy because no one would go on the sledding hill with her;) |
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| Because I only had powder to work with, it took me over an hour to construct this little guy. Yes, I brought the carrot from home. |
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| To top it all off, this was my Christmas present from my sweet husband: a painting of a snowy Chinese street, done by an artist in Beijing. Love! |
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