Can someone tell me why kids are so frantic to go play in snow?
It's barely light out, yet something primal woke them from sound sleeps and marched them to the slider in awe. Note: In this part of the world we call sliding glass doors "sliders."* I am not from this part of the world.
I am from a snowier part of the world. We made snow caves and snow angels. All winter there was snow snow snow snow snow. My mother, who was not from that part of the world, was fond of noting that our town often looked like a Christmas card. It was true.
I, too, woke up early to enjoy the snow. This is what I do to enjoy the snow: Make coffee, look out windows, enjoy the quiet.
I like going out in the snow if it involves reaching a warm destination which serves food. I like going out in the snow when I am properly equipped and no particle of actual snow touches my actual body. Frankly, I cannot believe I survived my childhood.
The chickens, for the record, stand with me on this point. Did you know that chickens are quite expressive? Right now they have "this is not remotely funny" written all over their faces.
Meanwhile, the kids have made so many snow angels they are eliminating the need to shovel.
And I'm making more coffee.
Which I'll share with the chickens.