Tuesday, February 26, 2008

On Hot Chocolate and Cold Weather. To Meg.

One of the joys of being raised in the colder climes was snow.

What is to accomplishment-minded adults a nuisance, and to skiers a medium of thrill, is to children, well, instant Magic Kingdom.

First, God in his most infinite wisdom put the snow season and the school season at the same time of year. So, not only was I playing outside all day, but I was playing outside all day on a day I would have otherwise been sitting in a school classroom. The choice between watching the red, second-hand move ever-so-slowly on the classroom clock or playing in the snow was not a difficult one. The ultimate in good fortune was the winter hat-trick: a big snow one day prior to the Christmas holiday, resulting in one extra day off, plus no homework for 2 weeks, and Christmas right in the middle. Wow. Talk about Peace on Earth.

Another beauty of snow for a child is that it is like playing in dirt without getting dirty. The possibilities of engagement are endless. Snowmen, snowballs, sledding, toboganning, igloo forts, and for the industrious there's even shoveling the neighbors' driveways for a few bucks.

Speaking of neighbors, our gathering place on snow days was the hedge row in Mr. Sincock's yard, strategically situated about 6 feet from Sandra Road. It was there we could crouch down, wait for a snow-slowed cars to roll by, and then bombard the car with snowballs as it passed. If the car stopped for the driver to get out and yell at us, or even better, to get out and chase us, we could, like little field mice, make our escape across Mr. Grady's backyard and then into the endless maze of backyards, secret passageways, and fences. It was never a contest between chaser and chased but the running escape was a thrill.

My sister (Meg) reminded me the other day about my mother's hot chocolate at the end of a day in the snow, and that is what I started to write about, but the snow, I guess it was something I hadn't thought about in a long while. So,

Tomorrow: my mother's homemade, real-milk, hot chocolate at the end of a snow day, and what I did to make it even better.

1 comment:

she who must be obeyed said...

I saw you throwing snowballs in downtown philadelphia and trying to hit the traffic signal .Reliving a little of your youth.