During our vacation there was snow. Beautiful, huge wet flakes, coming down thick as clouds, that tapered off into frosty bits and kept coming all day long. The NEXT day the kids wrapped up in all their inadequate Texas gear and adventured forth.
My aunt, a woman of remarkable resourcefulness, produced five pairs of mittens. She called them “Magic Mittens”, because they were made of some material that started small and stretched to the proportions that the wearer needed. Each child worked their hands inside a pair, and she completed the protection with a ziploc bac and a rubber band to seal up at the wrist, thus keeping the whole hand dry. Ta-da!
It was, in a word, incredible. Being the desiccated husk of an adult that I am, I didn’t go out myself, but stayed inside and took pictures through the screen. I could see them from a distance, curiosity and enthusiasm completely shielding them from the cold and wet.
When you start with a whole yardful of plain, pure snow canvas, of course you have to make footprints for a while. Stepping, dragging, finding sticks to make points and lines. Every insult you offer to the snow surface only makes you think of more ways to batter it. Helen followed Abbey around, using her footprints like stepping stones. When you’re only two years old, three inches of snow reaches halfway to your knees
Rob built a snow fort, the one-man kind you can crouch behind, and Amos soon followed his example. Helen wandered between them, occasionally kicking or patting their walls, trying to figure them out.
Amos kept reaching down to paw at the snow, whipping his hands back as if digging like a dog. I think he liked the frothy feeling.
The girls piled and striped and made shapes, a flat snow house. There may have been snow tea and snow flowers. After the boys began lobbing snowballs they retreated to a corner of the yard close to the porch.
A lovely day. – Katie