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Weather as a Story

We are deluged in rain here in the PNW. You wouldn't believe that a week ago we were bathed in winter white snow.

Snow is a luxury and delight here. Due to its inconsistent nature we have little to no resources to care for roads and such. So, when flakes fall, we get a vacation, compliments of Mother Nature. This Christmas didn't disappoint. Currier & Ives had nothing on us.

The first flakes fell before Christmas. My 29-year-old daughter, who is temporarily residing with us, hissed a whispered, "Mooom" at nearly midnight. As I made it to the staircase landing, she exploded in to a bolder whisper, "SNOW." Before I finished coming down the hall stairs, she had turned the couch around to face the bay windows, opened the blinds, lit the fire and was ready for the show.

I wasn't sure if I should sing, "Soft and white, clean and bright." from Edelweiss or "Sleigh bells ring, are you listening. In the lane snow is glistening". Before I could start, she broke out "Please have snow, and mistletoe, and presents by the tree." Two days later her older sister would arrive. Moments later we wrapped ourselves in blankets and drifted off.

By mid-morning the next day the white skiff had melted. But she just kept rejoicing in the first snow of Christmas. While reminding us that it rarely snows on Christmas.

Finally, my oldest arrived. We were in full festive mode. Food, games, gifts, and family. Nothing could top it. Almost. On December 26, round two of flakes began to fall. All over the house, discordant strains of "I'm Dreaming of a White Christmas" could be heard. Our fingers were crossed for a flight delay for my oldest, but it was not to be. As the soggy snain (snow & rain) fell, we sadly drove her to the airport and put her on a plane. Then like magic, the snain transformed to snow.

Within hours, the streets became silent. White quilts of crystal snow covered lawns. Cars were frosted liked wedding cakes. We watched it, walked in it, and relished it. Up and down the street's kids of all ages built snowmen. Holiday fun had been extended.

Then suddenly the barometer flipped. The clouds parted. The sun came out. Snow doesn't melt in the PNW, it evaporates. You can see it happening. No puddles exist, it just disappears. Snowman builders raced to save their sculptures. Even going so far as to prop them up with twigs and sticks.

As Frostys all over the neighborhood made their evaporative exit, I wondered if my daughter was thinking of her favorite snow story, Sadie and the Snowman. The book is water stained and nearly tattered from years of beloved reading. However, in the busy-ness of my day I forgot to mention it to her. She is almost 30 now and it probably doesn't feel the same as it did as a kid.

Later that night, I was wrong. She hadn't forgotten. As I opened the freezer to put something away, I saw a small clear glass bowl tucked in between ice packs and frozen vegetables. In the bowl was a frosted scoop of untarnished snow.

All throughout her childhood our freezer held the final remnants of her snow creations. Always waiting for the next set of flakes to fall, at which time the chosen ball would be brought forth from its captivity to become the start of the next snowman.

A good mom doesn't miss a photo opportunity. At midnight on the final snow day, I snapped a commemorative shot.

It's true that people create stories, but weather helps a lot. This season it was magical, thanks to snow from the sky. As 2022 envelops us, I wish you a year full of wonderful personal stories. Many happy returns of the New Year.

P.S. For additional delight in saving snowmen, I leave you with Saving Simon from the iPhone commercial.

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