Montgomery and Carroll counties were visited by an infrequent guest this weekend - snow, and just like the children in the community, my thirty-something friends and I jumped into the fluff with all the gusto of a nine-year-old.
At dusk on Friday, large, puffy flakes began to fall, but to my despair, they did not stick to the grass or sidewalks or rooftops. I thought Mother Nature was playing a cruel joke, and went about my Friday night as planned. My significant other, Keith, and I joined our friends, Jeffrey and Keetha, for a night of cards, and we completely ignored (totally disgusted) the light falling of snow outside.
For the next several hours, we focused our attention on our game of spades. Keith and I lost, by the way, and now I am torn whether or not to give up the game completely. (I am such a bad sport!). The only saving grace of the evening was a pan of homemade brownies prepared by Keetha (she is Winona's cookbook author) that were so fantastic, I decided they were my new best friends. As Keetha would say, “They are the best things ‘evah’.”
Around 11 p.m., we decided to call it a night, and walked outside to leave. Winona had been covered with a thick frosting of white powder, and it was steadily falling in quarter-sized flakes. All four of us were enamored by the substance - immediately wanted to hold it in our hands and catch it on our tongues. However, our moment of tranquil splendor was cut short as a snowball struck me in the back of my neck and ran down my back. I am sure my scream woke the neighbors as snow was caught between my sweatshirt and bare skin. Keetha and Jeffrey just kind of stood there in shock - trying to comprehend what had just occurred.
Behind me, Keith was forming a second snowball and sent it spiraling into the side of my head. War, I tell you! It was war!
With Jeffrey and Keetha on my side, it was three against Keith. As we gathered snow to form our own snowballs, he continued to pelt the three of us with snowball after snowball. He climbed on top of my truck where the snow was thick and fresh and where he had an advantage over enemy (think Union soldiers firing on Confederate troops as they climbed the hill at Vicksburg). At one point I started looking for rocks to pack inside the snow which I know was not very Christian of me.
Finally, after a 10 minute battle and a complete numbing of my hands, I called a truce. Keith may have won the battle, but trust me, I will win the war. I am currently working on my strategy (non-snow), and will meet up with Keetha and Jeffrey to discuss the infantry.
Regardless of coming up short on my snowball skills, I have never had more fun. As I drove home, only adults were seen playing in the snow (I guess it was contagious). Isn't that always the case?
A couple of years ago, snow and ice came to Mississippi, and my family jumped right in to play with my nephew, Hunter. It was his first snow. After about an hour, Hunter was cold and tired and wanted to go inside. Of course, at that time, my sister, Stephanie, and I had taken Hunter's go-cart through the neighborhood - making donuts and taking curves on two tires. When we finally returned to the house, a smile was literally frozen on my face, and we thought it was going to take warm water to dislodge Stephanie's hand from the roll-bar. But it was totally worth it!
Isn't it funny that as we get older the more enjoyment we get out of acting like children?
For example, Hunter got a trampoline for his birthday a few years back. As Daddy and my brother-in-law put it together, memories of jumping on my cousins' trampoline came flooding back. We would jump for hours - making up routines, new combinations (flip, back flip, knee drop, seat drop), and of course, my cousins' karate competitions.
My cousins would beat the snot out of each other for hours in these so-called karate competitions. They always took things way too far, and ended up getting into a real fist fight before it was over. Once, one of them went for an axe in the shed to finish the fight. Only a small amount of blood was shed in the end. All I know is my sisters and I were paralyzed with fear on the picnic table during the entire event.
When Hunter got his trampoline, I forgot all the violence and only remembered how much fun we had. This, of course, was not reality for someone nearing 30-years-old. Jumping on the trampoline is serious exercise - running-a-marathon-type of exercise.After about a minute, I thought I was about to have a heart attack! I am certain at one time I felt a true-blue palpitation!
Oh, the joy of getting older. Now with the early signs of crow's feet and a bad back, I needed the snow. I needed to remember what it was like before bills and deadlines and tax returns. I needed to remember a time when the most important thing in life was waiting my turn to play.