The Snowman

I laughed as soon as I saw it. A little snowman. I went and sought out T. 

"Did you make that snowman right outside the back door?" Of course, she feigned ignorance. Suggested that it was probably the fae, the squirrels, or maybe those birds were finally saying thank you for all the suet we put out for them this Winter. 

But, hey...it had her smile. 

And it put me back into a really good place. Not that I am a big fan of Winter or snowmen. But. It took me back to all the snowmen (and women) that have been a part of my life. 

When I was a kid, if there was a good, heavy snow....we made a snowman. Since, I was the youngest (my little sister came years and years after we were past snowman making), I was usually responsible for making the head. 

Later, with the kids....it was a given. If there was a big snow, we made a snowman. Once, we made a spectacular snow woman with a multi colored silken scarf, tinker toy wheel buttons and a fancy woman's hat that we found in the attic. It was indigo and sported several feathers and a long veil that waved dramatically in the wind. Under the veil, we placed two large round sparkling violet earrings to use as eyes, a small carrot for a nose and a curving string bean that we colored bright red with a marker for a mouth. Her arms were two long sticks, but at the end of those sticks we placed two black velvet evening gloves from the dress-up box. She was stunning. I dubbed her Elizabeth after Elizabeth Taylor. 

It was a cold few weeks and Elizabeth held up beautifully. And then came a spurt of a few warmer days and she began to show wear. Her feathers were stolen by thieving bluejays. Her nose fell off of her face every few hours. This caused me to run out into the snow to replace it to pacify a weeping child who cried because she feared Elizabeth "couldn't breathe without her nose!" But, her mouth was a problem. The red from the marker seeped into her chin, giving her a decidedly slutty demeanor. Now, instead of a regal Elizabeth, she looked like a woman of the evening slinking home the next morning. 

Still...snowmen and women tend to make us happy, yes? I don't see them much anymore. Today's kids are not as inclined to go running out into the snow to make them. They would much rather stay tucked up inside playing on their pads. 

One day, though, last week as I was coming home from a Starbucks run, I spied a woman with three little children making a snowman in her front yard. Their house was across the street from a church, so I sneakily pulled into the parking lot and spied as it went up. I watched the woman and the tallest boy rolling and rolling the large bottom for the snowman across the yard. Then, they all strained to lift the middle section. It fell twice and had to be re-packed. At last, the head was placed, nearly as tall as the woman. A quick trip inside and they all tumbled out with what looked like charcoal for eyes, a carrot for the nose and a banana for the mouth. All it needed was a top hat but none appeared, so...oh well....it was still a splendid snowman. 

I had tarried long enough. I left the parking lot just as they were all going inside, probably for hot cocoa and some books, or TV.  I remembered those days so well....the shuffling off of boots, coats, mittens, and hats. The wet musty smell. Then, the trooping into the kitchen to make cocoa.

Yes. A snowman is a happy thing. I wonder how many I have been a part of in my life? Maybe 20 or 30? None will ever touch Elizabeth Taylor, but some were pretty decent. 

Now, I sit at the kitchen table and look out at my little snowman and smile. 

Life just hits you good and hard in small little packages sometimes.