It’s snowing. And getting colder. I made soup. Just for me. Husband does not like soup. So it’s not like I’m excluding him. He just doesn’t want any. Soup. That is. So I made a vegetable beef soup with black rice and some pasta. I’m crafty like that. Good stuff. Especially on a snowy day. Snowy days call for certain kinds of things, like soup.
Kids and snow go great together too.
Mine are adults. Well, they think they are. But I don’t always see them that way.
Like right now I see them with scarves, boots, a hodge podge of snow appropriate clothing and layers of other clothing because no one is ever ready for the first snow. I see them going out. Most of the time making me go out with them. Forts. Sledding. Runny noses and bright red cheeks. My kids have the best cheeks for snowy days. Their eyes are brighter in the snow. But gloves fall off. Cheeks start to freeze. Tromping in to warmth suddenly makes them aware of how cold it is. Energy starts to droop a little. Puddles of melted snow wipe up quickly and the dryer does a little extra duty on the layers they soaked lying in the snow making angels. Or just lying there because it’s kind of neat to be so well insulated you can actually lay in the snow and not freeze. For a few minutes anyway. And hot chocolate cups being left on the table just make it more snug.
I liked my kids and snow. For a few minutes today I drifted back to my country house sitting in the woods, its almost dark outside but the snow makes it lighter. I can see the orange sled. The pile of snow that was a fort. But the best part is… my kids are kids. Snow is great. And I love those memories. Those thoughts.
Thats what I’m thinking about when I eat my soup. And look out the window to see the snow sticking.