Aww, the first snow of the season! Although I love snow and think that it's beautiful, it always makes me feel rather wistful. I didn't grow up with lots of white stuff, but I have so many great memories of snow/ice/sleet; and I will always smile like a child at the sight of the first snow of the season.
Today, I'm reminded of "snow" days as a kid in Atlanta. In the winter, Atlanta normally get loads of ice or just an inch of snow--that results in the closing of schools, mass hysteria at the grocery store, and sudden driving incompetence on the roads. The house I grew up in was built on a random incline (it was weird because all the houses around us were a few feet lower than ours--as if the builder wanted to ensure that our house overlooked all the others). My sister used to slide down our iced/snowed over driveway, and I used to take out my sand castle set and make figures in the snow. I also made sure to save a few cups of snow in our huge freezer--that's how special and uncommon snow was growing up.
I'm also reminded of the few amazing snowstorms I've experienced in D.C.--going crazy with classmates on the deserted National Mall or cozily sip homemade hot cocoa with my first love. Oh, and the time my lover and I spent hours clearing the sidewalks and car, fearful of falling or being iced in--only to have the sun come out and the temperature rise to a balmy 55 degrees F the following work day. Despite the mountain of balls I made that morning, I never did pelt him with a ice/snowball. My aim was always off.
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