My International student from Brazil had been taking pictures of
frost cover all week. I kept telling her, “that’s not real snow.” I knew she
would be excited to see an actual snowfall. “One day you’ll wake up and it will
just be all white outside,” I told her. “It’s beautiful. I still get excited at
the first snowfall, every year.” Sunday, Marilia
and Vicky got to try out their new winter wear.
It was quite fun to watch. First, they opened the front door
and just squealed as a gust of wind blew snowflakes in their faces.
“Ok, guys. We like to keep the snow outside if we can,” and
I pushed them gently out the door, to more squeals. They carefully slid their
feet over the slippery porch and I ran to get my camera.
It must be like when we ‘Southerners’ head north to
experience aurora borealis. Or the first time we see an ocean with no visible
limit. For Marilia , feeling the snow fall on her
face was like rounding a corner in Switzerland
and being faced with the Alps for the first
time.
“Do you hear it crunching under your feet?” I demonstrated
by stomping around. “That means it’s good for making a snowman.”
Beach girl Marilia picked up
a handful of snow, formed it into a perfect snowball and whipped it at Victoria . Vicky
responded by throwing a handful of snow at Marilia . It all blew back in her face.
For the next twenty minutes the girls worked together to
make a snowman that was about a foot tall. I think I’ll make them a life-sized
one to greet them when they return from school on Monday.
I dragged the Christmas lights outside and proceeded to put
them on the tree. The Farmer suffers from vertigo when at the top of a ladder
so I get to do this job myself every year. I rigged up an extendable pole with
a hook on the end but I still couldn’t reach the top of the evergreen I had
decorated last year. Could it really have grown three feet in one year?
I decided to light the cedar shrub instead. This turned out
to be not a great idea, as it was already circled with wild grapevine that gripped
my hook pole and light string at every opportunity. I lost the business end of
my implement in the tree, nearly fell off my ladder tugging on the string and
had the branch whip back in my face, getting snow in my eyes.
The girls watched with concern from the window in the house,
where they had retreated to warm up by the fire.
An hour later I had succeeded in throwing all ten light
strings up onto the twenty-foot cedar tree. The vines held them in place. It
was a group effort. It doesn’t look pretty, but as the saying goes, a man on a
galloping horse wouldn’t tell the difference. Especially if he’s riding after
dark.
When I returned inside to take a layer off, having worked up
a bit of sweat, I found the girls still sitting on the couch by the fire, in
full winter gear. Hoo boy.
Maybe it’s more like the opposite of us going to the desert
for the first time, in +50 degrees Celsius. Because these two are acting like
it’s forty below when it’s plus 2.
email: dianafisher1@gmail.com
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