Thursday, February 23, 2017

Before the snow melted

There are only two little scraps left of this adorable two-headed snowman:

Is it just me, or does the right-hand head look a bit dubious about something on the ground?

We found him on the Monday morning after the big snowstorm that hit the northeastern states and the eastern end of Canada recently, and I expect it was because it was built in the sculpture garden whose gates get locked at night.  The next day, he was in pieces on the snow where the right-hand head had been looking and this morning, all that was left was the two tiny hunks of melting snow.

Seriously: what IS it with people who kick down snowmen???

Don't answer that, we all know.  They are fun to knock over and anybody who puts a cold snowy hour into building one on shared property is asking for it, the way anybody who puts a warm salty hour into a sand castle is asking for it.  Anyway, rain or heat would do the work of a swinging leg so why deny the next person who comes along that fleeting moment's pleasure?

(sarcasm alert, because I've enjoyed many after-smiles at the thought of this thing just because it was still up for me to see, and I'm pretty sure I'm not the only one.)

Pete and I built a snowman late one night shortly after we were married, in the big water reservoir park next door to our then-highrise home, and it was gone by morning.  After that I thought, we need a yard.  Now we're in a condo and again: we so need a yard.  The families with young children here are vastly outnumbered by older residents who are unconvinced by the pleas of young people who would like to run around in protected public spaces when nobody else is there, but I saw that one family did get to have some fun in the snow.  Footprints chased each other around the perimeter of the terrace outside our windows, over the bulbs we have all been instructed not to disturb (to be fair, as an on-level resident I appreciate this argument for its likely true purpose of discouraging people from strolling along outside our collective windows.)  And then there was that indisputable clue: a snowman on the patio.  I did not take his picture, as he was the ordinary kind with one head, and he has since melted.

I don't make many site visits to our house at the moment because of my hand and its awkward splint, but I was there last week and got an eyeful of my office-to-be, complete with door, and missing only the top of its doorframe, though the doors on either side have theirs. 

It's very small, just about 8.5' x 5.5', but it's mine, and nobody will be kicking down any snowmen I build in there.

Sorry for the silence this week - I've been using my Talking To The Computer time to KNIT.  Very slowly and carefully.  There might be a completed sock toe around here but I have no photographic evidence to prove it so we'll just leave this at that, shall we?  And hopefully I'll see you here tomorrow!


Laurinda said...

Hahaha -it DOES look dubious! :-D

Mary Keenan said...

Like it could see its own future...
I have to say, I really miss that snowman and I pass his perch every morning :^( Totally building a two-headed snowman in the back yard next winter!