The 7 stages of snow

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The 7 stages of snow

New postby bridesmom on Fri Jan 21, 2011 7:52 pm

This came with my Quilt University Newsletter today. Since we are in the middle of winter, I thought it would bring a bit of a smile to the rest of you as it did me.



I'm sure you have heard of the seven stages of man, from birth to death. As I watched my front yard disappear under a layer of white recently, I realized that we also have seven stages of snow.

In stage one, snow is simply magic. You sit with your nose pressed to the glass, watching the flakes swirl through the air. You beg and cajole until your mother wraps you in enough layers to make movement almost impossible and then waddle out to stand motionless, watching the little shapes as they land on your sleeve. Your head tilts back and you let them fall right into your mouth. The silence lays like a cloak over everything.

Stage two starts when you are old enough to go to school and snow becomes a kind of gambling game. Will there be enough to cancel school? Where we live in Virginia, that can happen with as little as 2", while 6" will paralyze the city. Now you are old enough to dress yourself and you know to stop adding layers before you turn into the Michelin Man. After all, you need to be able to bend down to make a snowman or go sledding.

Anything can be called into service as a sleigh. My favorite was a slightly concave silver circle that had a habit of wobbling and spinning as it slipped down our street. The silly adults who lived in the neighborhood actually objected when we carried snow from the yards back into the street when the pavement started to show.

In the third stage, you suddenly find yourself old enough to be called into snow clearing service. Snow stops looking quite so fluffy and endearing when you have to move several hundred pounds of it. At least, there was still the reward of snow cream, hot chocolate and the fun of playing games and putting together jigsaw puzzles with the family.

In the fourth stage, you are old enough to drive and you have to figure out how to get to work. Since we can easily go two years with no snow at all, no one around here is very good at driving in the snow. Even if I had complete faith in my own abilities, I would have no faith in my fellow drivers. Still, if I am not at home when it starts snowing, I have to drive to get home and it is always a nerve-wracking experience.

It seems that no matter where I have ever lived, there was a steep hill to negotiate. When I was first married, we lived in the mountains and our apartment was at the bottom of a hill. We were just creeping along, not even stepping on the gas, and suddenly my tiny little Corolla headed for a big mail truck like a nail attracted to a magnet. We came to rest with the front headlight nestled against the truck. Aghast, I tried to get out of the car only to discover that the driver's side had buckled all the way to the back door. The mailman pushed me out of the way, said he had no damage and took off. One of those magical snow moments you can treasure forever.

Another time, as I was trying to get home from work, I was indicating a left turn into my subdivision, but the car had other ideas and veered sharply to the right. Never one to argue with something that weighs two tons, I obligingly let the car have its way and parked at the elementary school opposite my street. I got out and walked home. We retrieved the car when the snow melted.

In stage five, you are the parent and you get to pass on all your snow traditions to your children. I found I was just as happy to see snow days as they were. Well, I was happy the first couple days; after that, the thrill began to wear off. In the early years, we were still using our fireplace and I used to make bread dough and put the covered bowls on the hearth to rise. I never mastered the art of making snow cream but pollution had gotten so bad by then, I don't think it would have been good to eat anyway. I was excellent at providing hot chocolate and marshmallows. So what if it is was instant?

By stage six, the children were grown and snow days meant I could stay in my sewing room all day. I don’t waste time baking bread or making cookies anymore. As you get older, you get your priorities straight!

When you reach stage seven, like my mother, you are back to pressing your nose against the glass. Past a certain age, walking in snow is a death-defying act. You could break a hip! You still watch as the front yard is covered up but all you can think is whether you'll be able to get to your regular hairdresser appointment and whether the food will hold out until someone can take you to the grocery store.
Laura
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Re: The 7 stages of snow

New postby lendube on Fri Jan 21, 2011 9:31 pm

Sweet essay, Laura. I'm getting the distinct impression that you're feeling a bit nostalgic, meloncholy or winsome. First the "Can't believe we survived it" post, then old movies, now this. Is there a reason? or just coincidence? or not enough sun??? ;)
Lennie

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Re: The 7 stages of snow

New postby DorothyL on Sat Jan 22, 2011 8:51 am

Apparently I missed the good parts since I moved here at the fourth (drive in it) stage.

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Re: The 7 stages of snow

New postby sewhappyrtr on Sun Jan 23, 2011 8:29 am

Awww.. thats so sweet!!!
Karen
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Re: The 7 stages of snow

New postby bridesmom on Mon Jan 24, 2011 12:44 am

I think it's the January bingo that's making me nostalgic, remembering winters as a kid and with the dogs. There were some good memories of winters back on the Prairies! Good that I'm done with them too!! :D
Laura
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