By Heather Blair / OC Monitor Community Contributor
A blanket of freshly fallen snow surrounds the house and casts a bright light through the windows. Sitting inside, by the warmth of the fireplace, I reminisce of snow days from my childhood.
Back when snowfall brought joy, whether a dusting or a dollop, as it meant a free day home. As kids, we didn’t worry about road conditions or missing work, snow meant freedom and fun.
Snow days equaled sleeping in, cartoons and board games, coloring books and cocoa. Tossing broken crayons into the fire and watching rainbows dance.
The scent of a wood stove and breakfast at the table, family style, soup already simmering for later that day. Tupperware bowls of snow cream. A Winter’s picnic.
Layering on clothes so thick you could barely walk and waddling out into the white. Grandpa’s black socks pulled over tennis shoes to create makeshift boots.
The sweeping sound of forming snow angels and watching your breath puff out like clouds. Cotton fabric that quickly soaked up the wetness, only to freeze, leaving you cold to the bone but happy to be out exploring. Piling on top of sleds, wind stinging your face as you smiled down the hills.
Many fond memories of snow days past but my favorite is the year we built an igloo at my Grandma and Grandpa’s house.
I’m not sure if we were already off on break, but all the cousins were there, as well as my two uncles. It was rare for everyone to be together this time of year and perhaps adds to the sentiment. Wading through snow, that in drifts was waist high to us, someone came up with the idea to build an igloo.
In my memory, perfectly formed square bricks of snow created an authentic Eskimo hut. Who knows how it actually appeared but I do remember the adults helping us build it, which makes me think it was as big and amazing as I recall.
Most of the day was spent building and stacking to form the walls. A team effort, only taking breaks with snowball fights to test the strength.
The igloo was constructed in front of the big picture window in the family room. This way, even when inside, chili and laughter warming your belly, one could still enjoy the frosty creation. Long after the snow melted and our winter wonderland began to fade, the igloo remained, much like the nostalgic adventures do in my mind.
Heather Blair is a Kentucky girl at heart, growing up in a small town she’ll never leave and has a love for backroads and bluegrass landscapes. She finds joy in the little things, like butterflies and farmers markets, friends and family gathered at the table and catching more fish than her hubby. Her best-selling novel is currently in her head but, in the meantime, she has been published online for over a decade.