It seems childhood is just made better by those few flakes falling from the sky. As I look out, I see more work mucking stalls and filling water buckets for the horses, keeping pipes warm and getting it all done with mush on the ground. The kids squeal and look out the window in anticipation.
Donovan is just at the age to understand the white flakes in the sky are called snow and he studies intently what happens to the flakes as they hit the warm brick patio. Darragh and McLeod wonder if it will stick enough to make a snowman and as important, will school be cancelled tomorrow? I can't help but bundle up and go outside with them to throw a few snowballs and laugh as the dogs and horses try to figure it all out.
The excitment is addictive and I find myself thinking back to earlier days when I lived on a cul-de-sac. In New York the snow accumulated quickly and there were plenty of snow plows. Before I could get my warm winter clothes on, the cul-de-sac was plowed creating 10-12 foot mounds of snow around the edge. We would build homes in the hills of snow making believe all sorts of wonderful stories. Snow with its virgin whiteness, brings pure happy thoughts to kids and adults alike.
Hmmm, now back to mopping pools of melted snow from the house, bringing in more firewood and quickly warming frozen hands and toes on the little ones.
