A snowy hill is a snowy hill no matter where it is.

Teeny icicles, not yet given enough time to get humongous, came into being in thin air this week.

Out come the mittens, and the ritual of dressing that is reserved for this time of year.

I am trying hard not to hate it.

A big part of learning to like this season is by following in the crunchy ice encrusted footsteps of my kids. Both got gear for enjoying snow this year. Snowpants, warm boots and copious "pairs" of mittens (most of them still paired up, yeah!) all go on without complaint because they know that it all means one thing, fun in the snow is coming their way. Even when we were waiting for a bus a little too long (for my liking) in what is in my mind a desolate place (a business park), they still managed to find the terrain magical and exciting to explore. As my knees knocked together down below, they frolicked high above on the ridge of a crusty snow bank. I have to say, that despite the initial discomfort and bulkiness that I experience wearing winter clothing, nothing beats, taking it all off in a warm house after we've been outside. I feel almost athletic coming back to my warmed up limbs that have been exerting themselves by walking in cold air. Every walk to anywhere is taking a little longer these days because there are so many air pockets and icy sheets of snow to crunch. Summer seems almost boring (and certainly too obvious) in comparison.

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A Small Craft

I accompanied my mother-in-law to an appointment this week. On the paper, preparing her for the appointment, it invited her bring along something to read or a small craft. As soon as I heard about this invitation to bring a small craft into an otherwise austere waiting area, my mind started to do bouncing somersaults in many different directions. Googly eyes? Glue gun? Feathers? Play clay? Friendship braclets?

The words coming out of my mouth

These days I wear a mask. I don't wear a mask all of the time, only when I am indoors or unavoidably up close with people who I don't usually interact with. I wear one when I am ordering things, or buying things or attempting to enjoy some form of public entertainment. I cannot rely on reading others lips. My lips are hidden. We ask each other to repeat. We move our eyes or our whole heads to try and enunciate more clearly. I say fewer words, more carefully chosen words behind the mask. Sometimes that is helpful, sometimes that just causes more confusion. I walked into the woods. I did not need a mask. I only saw a few other people and they were distanced. Masks were unnecessary. After so much talking and not talking and avoiding talking out loud I am forced to examine when I speak and when I choose not to. This is not a bad thing since I can be an insufferable chatter box, just a new thing for my brain to adjust itself to. When I am not standing aro...

Balloon request

Recently, my kids attended a magic show at their friend's party. At the very end, the magician asked each child to select a balloon and encouraged each child to come forward and request it be shaped into one of the following: -a giraffe -a monkey -a puppy -a sword After numerous requests for swords and an occasional monkey, my son was the very last child to make a request. Oblivious to the pre-selected options, he put a great deal of careful thought into what would be the coolest balloon shaped object. He looked up at the magician, passed him his balloon and asked him if he could make him a sweater. If you could defy physics and find a magical balloon artist, what would you request?

Growing Versions

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