My brother enjoying a snow day when he was 1.
So, here we are. Each of us – in Kansas anyway – waking up inside our own little snow fort. We look out the door and white is all we see. A fresh and deep layer of snow for us, and still coming down. The sound of any moving vehicles is muffled, absorbed by the snow. Wind skittering the dry flakes about. Cold air landing on our skin the moment we stop outside.
Day 18. The photo is of my brother, age 1, wrapped in a snowsuit, standing in the snow.
Everyone who has lived in the land of snow surely has a few snow stories to tell. What are yours?
Here are a couple of mine:
* Sledding with my brother and friends at the Rock. Bundling up at age 6 or 7, a coat, mittens, stocking hat (with a built-in ski mask) made of cheap material which created more static electricity than warmth, rubber galoshes that gapped at the top, letting snow inside, burning my ankles, my feet. When we got so cold at the Rock and started for home, my feet were frozen and every step was nearly impossible. A quarter-mile home, dragging the sled behind me.
* The blizzard of 1978. My freshman year of college I lived in a basement apartment in Great Bend when we got a foot of snow. Everything was shut down in town. My roommate, Susie, and I had nothing to do, so we walked a few blocks to the Highland Manor restaurant (and hotel – the name sounds like a nursing home, right?) We had food at home (boxed macaroni and cheese, canned tuna), but we needed to get out. Snow was up to our knees and we hiked down the street to get to the highway where the restaurant was open, a hot meal.
Tell me about your snowy days, your travel-on-snow stories, your snow days. Where were you? Who were you with? Stuck in a ditch? At home without power? A fire in the fireplace? Did you build a fort with your siblings, have snowball fights, make snow angels?
Enjoy today’s snow day. Write all day.
Go get ‘em! Cheryl
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