It’s been an interesting day here on the edge of the desert. This morning we (hubby and I) shoveled five inches of heavy snow off the sidewalk, knocked it off cars and shrubs, and generally had a pretty decent workout before eleven in the morning. Now, I’m not a morning person. I write at night. I catch up on lost weekday sleep on the weekends. So this much activity on a Saturday morning is kind of unusual for me.
This afternoon, after watching the Seahawks win their first round playoff game against the Washington Redskins (go Hawks!), we went outside and did the whole thing all over again, only with three inches of snow (three inches, in between 2pm and 4pm– not a bad snowfall total). The sidewalk was icier this time, the temperature colder with the heavy clouds and later time, so we didn’t stay outside any longer than absolutely necessary.
This morning though, while I was pushing snow around to create an only semi-hazardous walkway, I kept thinking about how the snow would have been perfect for a snowman. It packed up nicely, there certainly was enough of it, but all I was focused on was doing the chore — making the place safer to walk and drive.
Halfway up the hill from our house, a group of kids were sledding down a gentle slope. They laughed a lot, fell off their sleds a lot, and looked like they were having a blast. Maybe they went home to hot chocolate with little marshmallows floating on top. Or maybe they went home to their XBox 360’s and iPods. Even though there’s no way my back would handle sledding, a part of me wished I was still ten years old and up there having fun instead of down in my yard being a responsible homeowner.
I did finally see a snowman today. On the ledge at the drive through window at Starbucks, two little snowmen — straws for arms, coffee beans for eyes, and a little cinnamon sprinkled on their little heads. Tomorrow, maybe, I’ll build a little snowman even if I have to shovel more snow. A person can do both, right?