Wednesday, November 21, 2012

Snow

On Friday, November 9th, the snow began about 6:30 in the morning. Even though weather predictors had promised snow, I still looked up in surprise to see tiny white flakes drifting down from cloudy skies. Soon the tiny dots of snow were joined by big brothers and sisters, mothers and fathers, grandmas and grandpas. First the ant hills disappeared; then mouse holes, blades of grass, and small rocks received their blankets of snow. Finally, the snowflakes grew so large that they looked like white parachutes falling down to cover the earth with their silky fabric. All day it snowed and snowed and snowed. The cat took one look out the door and turned around and ran for the couch. On days like this your Great-grandmother Poulson used to close all the curtains to keep the blizzard from view and read a book. As I watched the snow I thought about all the fun things we did playing in the snow. My memories made me smile. Snow fun began in the summer. We would drive to the store and look for the perfect plastic swimming pool to buy. Those pools with rings that you had to blow up just wouldn't do. We were looking for a perfectly molded, five foot across circle with about eight inch sides. Once we found our prize, Grandpa, Brian, Marci, Natalie and I sat down in the pool, knee to knee, toe to toe. Only if the pool fit us all did it pass the buy it now test. Do you think we took the plastic pool home and filled it with water for some cool-off in the summer fun? No! We saved it for winter. Up the hill from our house in Tooele was the city golf course. Fourth of July fireworks were launched from the top of the golf course hill. The spectacular fireworks display always had a little bit of anticipation along with the light display. Sometimes the rockets flew down the hill instead of up to the sky. When the fireworks exploded on the ground, the firemen jumped into action to put out the fire. I sometimes wondered if we cheered louder for the fire than the real fireworks. The golf course hill was a perfect sledding hill: no trees, steep enough, and grass covered. All fall and into winter we would wait for snow with our plastic pool safely stored in the shed. Each grey sky was carefully analyzed for possible snow content. Prayers for snow were quietly given. Snow. Snow. Snow. Please. Then one day the clouds could no longer hold onto their snow. It came! One inch, two, three inches, four. More and more and more. Saturday brought clear blue skies, cold, and sun. The perfect day for sledding. Did we use a wooden sled? A black tube? A sheet of plastic? No! We grabbed the swimming pool and away we went to the hill. Jumping out of the car, we carried out precious swimming pool to the top of the slope. Brian, Marci, Natalie and I climbed in. Grandpa bent down to give us a big push. Other sledders stopped and watched in amazement. What were we doing in a swimming pool in the snow? Grandpa gave a big push and jumped in. Holding tightly to the edge of the pool, we slid twirling, slipping, screaming, smiling. Faster and faster until the wind pushed tears from our eyes. Other sledders raced out of our way. "Watch out!" we yelled. Seconds later the pool glided across the flat bottom of the hill slowing to a stop. Screams turned to laughter. "Again, again," pleaded the pool riders. Trudging up the hill, keeping our eyes on the top, climbing in, pushing off; over and over we repeated our ride. Until we lay exhausted on the snow, hoping to gain new energy from the sun so we could ride and ride and ride, forever. So, when you go to the store in July look for the perfect hard-sided swimming pool to buy, and then put it away carefully. Start watching the clouds in November. Look for those first snowflakes and hope they turn into millions of parachutes that will coat your sledding hill with perfect snow frosting. When you take that first ride together, will you scream for me? I'm sure I will hear you in Utah and know that you are having fun. Love, Grandma