Let it Snow

Odin pointed out that my pictures of Downtown Salt Lake just before Christmas don't have any snow in them. Wow! He's right. I don't know why that didn't cross my mind, except that maybe I'm getting used to the drought here. When we first came to live here ten years ago, the winters were more like they were where I grew up: Snow that buried our car completely and took hours to dig out. I don't miss it. I like not having to shovel the driveway. When it does snow, I just have to wait a couple of days for it to melt. But, like I said, it wasn't always that way here. When we managed apartments, I broke my back shoveling the yards and yards of sidewalk. On the freeway, watching everyone else drive at insane speeds, it was I, the safe driver, who spun out, ending up facing the wrong way in oncoming traffic. Of course, I've never ended up at the side of the four-lane road, my car stuck in the white stuff, waiting for a tow truck.

Snow has always been a part of my life. I grew up on skis, though I don't do it anymore. I've never had to pay as my dad has always been on the ski patrol. Now that I do have to fork over the cash, it doesn't seem worth it.
Our yard was always piled high with snow in the winter. My friends and I would jump off the roof of our two-story house into the drifts and I would dig deep tunnels down in the trampoline hole and make forts. One year the tunnel collapsed on me and I spent nearly an hour digging myself out. Scary.

Now...I could do without it. I know I shouldn't say that, what with the drought and all. But there it is.