Apparently I’m doing this thing two days at a time now…?
I used to like snow as a kid, but as I’ve grown older, I’ve developed a bitterness toward it. It’s miserable to drive in, and I hate being cold and gross. But now I sound like a broken record, so let’s get to the story…
But first, since we’re talking about snow, here’s a shot of the Drillfield in snow from last year:
Day 4: Favorite Memory of Snow
Snow in Georgia doesn’t happen often. But on the occasion they do get some of the white stuff, everyone freaks out. Cities generally aren’t equipped with proper equipment to clear the roads, so schools and many businesses close, even for a mere inch of snow. It’s almost laughable to me, because I’ve experienced “real snow” in Pennsylvania, where it takes over a foot to close schools.
I woke up one morning in sixth grade, and when I looked out my window, there was a layer of snow blanketed across my back yard. Like any normal 12-year-old would do, I sprinted downstairs to the kitchen and excitedly asked my mom if school was canceled. It was, of course. Before I could even squeal with excitement, the phone rang. I answered, and was met with equally excited squeals from my friend Allison. If I remember correctly, she’d never had a snow day before, and was anxious to experience it.
By 8:30 am, Allison, her younger sister Catherine, and I were bundled up and sledding in my back yard. We made a snowman, too, and it took about all of the snow in my entire yard to make it. But we were so proud of our work. He didn’t last for long, so we admired him until the inevitable Georgia sun melted him away.
There’s photographical evidence of that day somewhere at my house, but I don’t have immediate access to it. Oh well. That still stands as one of the best snow days ever (and believe me, I had plenty in high school up in Pennsylvania).
Day 5: Real or Artificial Tree?
We are proud fake tree owners. My mom has allergies, and we’ve always had cats, so it’s just safer to have a fake tree. The family rule has always been that Christmas decorations do not go up until after my birthday, which is November 30. And that’s always worked out pretty well.
Mom sent me this a few days ago:
This is Bows’ first Christmas with us since she joined our family last January. She has already found her favorite ornament to play with. I’m kind of anxious to see how she’ll handle all the paper and ribbons on Christmas morning.
