At Long Last.

A few weeks before Christmas, Husband bought the FarmHands a 6 foot long orange toboggan (not the hat). We had been getting reports of snow coming...lots of snow...inches & inches of snow. We got diddly squat. Maybe a few flakes, but nothing to write home about & nothing stuck. So the giant sled of wonder has sat idly in the shed since mid-December.

Yesterday we left for church amid flurries & the pie crust promise of accumulation (easily made, easily broken). On the way home from church it was clear the dusting wasn't going to stick around. The FarmHands were crushed. Their plans of snow ball fights, snow men as tall as our house, and rocket fast trips down the hill on the sled of wonder were shattered like thin ice under heavy boots.

But last night there was a glimmer of hope. Big fat flakes drifted slowly down as the temperature steadily dipped. Real, honest to goodness accumulation was expected. They were nestled all snug in their beds while visions of sugar snow danced in their heads.

They awoke snow bright & too early to this:

Just enough snow to fulfill their big dreams, about 2 1/2 inches by my guess. They immediately started dressing to go out, but much to their chagrin, it was only 15 degrees & their dad (the man in charge of all things outdoors) was still sleeping. A few hours later & we started piecing together snow suits from the hodge-podge of winter wear hiding in our house.

I clearly remember always having a new snow suit & snow boots each winter. They were sorely needed when I was a child. Snow suits & boots were worn to school by everyone only to be stripped off & hung in the cloak room while school shoes (the brown leather kind with buckles)were dug out of book bags & worn into class.

With measurable snow being a rarity around here, my kids layer sweat suits over pajamas and squeeze into hand-me-down snow pants that may be 15 years old. They tug on mud boots over three pairs of socks & scramble to find their gloves they only wear while waiting on the bus to pick them up after school.

I'd guess it takes as much time to dress them as they actually spend outside in the snow. But the effort is worth it when you hear the squeals of laughter when the first loose snow ball is tossed. Even Mama got in on a bit of the action, tugging on mud boots & Carhart coveralls Husband grew out of long ago just long enough to snap a few pictures, take a quick, screaming trip down the hill on the sled, and make a mom sized snow angel.

Bitsy was heart broken because she was deemed too little to play in the snow at first. She stood at the window gazing forlornly out at her siblings streaking through the snow & freezing their little noses off. Once they came in, I bundled her up & took her out for a quick trip down the hill on the sled. While she reacted very little to the sledding & snow it's self, she screamed like a banshee when I brought her back in the house. I guess the snow was more fun than I figured.

Now we're all in, bundled in jammies watching Alvin & the Chipmunks, & munching on apples. I wonder how long the snow will inspire awe. Will I enjoy it until it melts, or will I be straining towards spring tomorrow? Time will tell.