As you already know, I love the holidays. Christmas, hot chocolate, snow (as long as I’m not driving in it) I love it all. So while skimming through my trusty Holiday Book of Awesome I came across this: The First Big Snowfall
Crystal flakes form in space before floating down from cloudy skies. Soon blankets of white coat sidewalks like icing and frosty corners freeze in shady yards by the shed. Scarves twist tightly around necks, noses sniffle and turn red, and everyone walks the streets with wide eyes and snowy lashes. Boots slip and slide on the sidewalk, mittens swipe seats in the park, and branches glow under a silent new moonlit world. Sometimes the first snowfall gets your bones excited about everything the season brings : family moments, quiet times, eating foods you loved as a kid. It’s a sign of venturing into a new world while bunkering down into an old one at the same time. When the snow flies around you and nostalgia bombs burst in your brain… of slip-sliding to school on sidewalks, slush snowball fights in the park, and sticky mittens rolling snowmen with your sisters on the front lawn…AWESOME!
So as much as I love Christmas and Neil Pasricha’s optimistic view of the world, here is how the first snowfall a few days ago went for me:
You wake up to freezing home because your heating is broken and allow a sigh to escape your lips “ahh, it’s winter”. You then get your long johns and knit socks on before you leave you bed to get coffee like a lumberjack going to work. Then you leave for school, falling on ice in the drive way and thinking about memories of doing that as a kid (hint: it sucks more as you get older). On your drive to school you are reminded of all the fun you had slip-sliding to school as a kid as you slip-sliding (otherwise known as fishtailing) down the un-plowed street. You are then blessed with the welcomed walk across campus when you see people with eyes frozen shut and legs shaking from the cold, how lovely. You finally get to leave school to find that there is now more than a foot of snow and get excited by the energy of all the people honking trying not to hit walkers through the white out. Finally getting home to my cold little dwelling to sleep on the promise of a snow day the next morn.
Oh and by the way, THERE WAS NO SNOW DAY. I have come to realize that I prefer to enjoy the season from indoors, preferably in a home that is set at 72 degrees with the fire place on and tea. It’s hard to be a pessimist.