Snow is a four letter word

The snows have started to fall here in the Midwest and the temperatures have dropped to the point that there is some accumulation. It's still pretty light so far, but we should be getting more this week (before the temperatures rise again).

Snow on the weekends means the kids want to play . . . and that is still a bit of a foreign concept for me, having grown up in Georgia my entire childhood. I have very little experience in such winter-based skills, though I am getting the hang of some of it.

This snowman, taken in my childhood (that's me standing to the left of Mr. Frosty) was probably the most amazing moment of my life. How south Georgia got this much snow, I don't recall. It is the sort of thing that should be remembered and discussed each year on the anniversary of the mysterious event.

My kids have grown up in this weather and so they probably don't understand why our snowmen aren't as good as everyone else's, or why we don't have good snow sleds (thanks for screwing up THAT choice Santa!), or why . . . well, who knows what the other kids say or do?

The old axiom is true, however. It takes a parent the same amount of time to put on the snow pants, snow boots, fitted, waterproof gloves, scarf, hat, and heavy (waterproof again) coat on as the equipped chid will choose to be outside in the white stuff. And then, they come back in, strip it all off, and leave it dripping wet on the floor. But, I guess, if that didn't happen, the floors would never get mopped?

*****

Oh, and another thing that is problematic (to me, but maybe no one else on my street?) is that whenever the temperature dropped below 30, the automatic garage door seizes up and won't open all the way. I mean, it will eventually, if you are patient and raise and lower it 5 to 25 times (as needed and completely unpredictable). I don't know if the rails get too  cold and contract out of shape or if the motor loses some power or what. But some days I just get tired of standing in the garage entrance freezing my stocking feet while the door creaks up and down and up and down and up and down again. Is it just us or does everyone have this problem?

Sigh . . .

Now for some hot tea and forgetfulness.