I can remember when we lived in the parsonage out in the country and we had a big snow and Dad and I got all dressed up in our winter clothes and went out to take a look at how bad we were snowed in. And I can remember how the wind had blown the snow up between the church and the house in a huge white wave and I could walk on the sidewalk, which had very little snow, under the curl of that wave.
In my mind, that’s always been the most snow ever.
But I was thinking about that when my dad sent me photos of their recent snow, of how the snow blew between the church and the parsonage and he had to dig the van out.
I was four. I was about three feet tall, I imagine, maybe shorter.
I bet that was snow about like what Dad has here..
Tiny Cat Pants 
We just got three feet of snow yesterday. After spending all day shoveling and shivering, I am a whole lot less in love with big snow.
Yeah, somehow when you’ve reached the age where you have to shovel it instead of make snowforts out of it, it’s not as much fun. Still, if you didn’t have to shovel it and you had everything you needed at home… I’m just saying, we get a dusting and they close school. I’d love to see what they did with three feet down here.
Ugh, I wouldn’t.
Yeah, I was just saying to someone yesterday how nostalgic I am for the the South’s relationship to snow. One plow for a whole city, so snow shuts everything down, and you have a free day to lounge around and drink cocoa and/or go back to bed. Damn, I loved snow days when I was a kid! But here in the midwest it snows and ices and it’s 3 degrees outside, but, somehow, I still have to go to work and tromp around in this stuff all day. No fun!