In February we were given a rare treat: snow that lasted more than a day.
It wasn’t a lot of snow, but it was enough; there was sledding, and snowmen, and many walking adventures.
The hill in the front yard was commandeered for a sledding track. We only have the one sled (and will have to consider investing in more, I suppose) but it worked well enough taking turns. Also, we discovered you can fit three people on the one sled, though the person in the back is in a rather precarious position.
We very, very rarely have snow. So we have done nothing to prepare in terms of clothing for snow. Why should we? Elvie lucked out–I had found a pair of snow pants for her at a yard sale recently. Since they were just a a couple of dollars, I got them. Everyone else put on layers and layers of clothes–long underwear under pajama pants under jeans under sweat pants, two and three pairs of socks. Socks also make nice mittens, too, for the record.
Snow days for Mama bring a bit of internal conflict. I’m never sure how to be outside and inside at the same time. Since I dislike the cold in general, I usually opt for the latter, trying to provide something warm to drink, help the littles take their “snow” clothes on and off, and keeping the fire hot.
This time I was able to get out for a little bit and sled, too. I also lead the smalls (including Beatrice, not including Aurick) on a little snow expedition. There are no photos of me sledding; you will have to take my word for it.
On the third day of snow we were visited by an astonishing number of birds. Mostly starlings and robins, they hung around the trees and porches and were very vocal in their opinion of the weather. We tossed some pieces of bread to them and repeated the poem we had learned:
Bread and milk for breakfast
And woolen frocks to wear
And a crumb for Robin Redbreast
On the cold days of the year.
(To my knowledge, no robin ate the bread, but sparrows did.)