A pile of wet, stinky, sometimes still snow covered shoes and boots is a staple of any home in the snow belt. It is the result of putting on boots to go shovel, shoes to go and run errands, and something else to run to the mailbox. For some inexplicable reason, each of these tasks seems to require a different set of footwear which then accumulates by the front door. Last week we anticipated the biggest snowstorm in two decades. By some atmospheric miracle, the storm almost completely missed us and dumped over a foot of snow in Charlotte and inches as far south as Myrtle Beach. However, we still got enough to cover the roads, shutdown everything, and add to our collective Cabin Fever.
Harking back to our New York days, we bundled up to take Lucie for a walk and assess the two inches we received for snowman making and sledding opportunities. Snow is pretty for a few minutes and then it's just a frigid nuisance. Nonetheless, we stayed out in it for an hour, swept and shoveled some out of the driveway, and played with the neighbors kids until everyone got cold. Grant? Grant hardly poked his head out the door and was not interested in making fun in the snow. He did go out to learn how to drive in it, but a Subaru sticks to the road in all kinds of conditions. TJ got a dusting at college and wished he had more. Snow is more fun when you are young there are many peers looking for something to do. Lisa made a snowman and got plugged with a couple of snowballs for her effort. Me? I recalled days back when snow was a part of everyday life.
Back when the snow I shoveled from the driveway was three feet deep in the yard and made for great snow forts. When you drove in snow squalls and it looked like flying in hyperspace. When snow was not a once a year "treat". When a pile of wet shoes was a constant reminder of winter.
