snowperson*

Snowperson update: We had a stint of warm weather. Now the snowperson is a small ball (base) sitting next to an even smaller ball (head), on the dead-green grass. Watching the snowperson's progression through January has been a poetic journey for me.

Which has me thinking about the last 3 snow creatures I have made.

#1: Energizer Bunny.
Last winter, Abe & I picked an evening after work to play in the snow. I remember this because it was about the only time we played in the snow all winter. Why is it so much more appealing when you are 10?

We borrowed sleds from our neighbors and tromped over to a nearby park. The snow was sticky, deep, and relatively untouched: perfect modeling conditions. We rolled a large ball for the base of the snowperson (let's be honest, though, the "ball" always looks like a re-wound roll of toilet paper), and a smaller ball for the head. At this point we decided the snowperson had distinctly bunny-esque features. Add dramatic floppy ears, fluffy white tail, and Thumper hind legs. Pleased, we ran up the nearby hill to take a few runs on the sleds. When we got to the top, we realized that the bulging, cylidrical base of the bunny looked much more like a base drum than a cute fuzzy belly. The Energizer was also appropriately framed by the vast expanse of the open field and a setting sun in the distance.

#2: Big.
A few years ago, we had a big winter storm on New Year's Eve. Warmed by the spirits of sparkling white grape juice after midnight, Abe & I frolicked in the piles of snow around our house. In drunken delight, we decided to roll the biggest snowball ever. Knowing we would need all the snow in the open area behind our apartment building, we rolled the ball back and forth in even rows, like a lawnmower. Once the ball got to about waist height, we gave up on the rows and rolled it in whatever direction its momentum seemed to take it. We wound around to our neighbor's and left the snowball, shoulder height, just to the right of their front door. It was the most prank-like thing I'd done for several years and awoke on New Year's morning with the guilty regret of a bad hangover.

#3: Gryffin-saur
While in Utah for Christmas several years ago, we spent one evening with my sister and her family. Cue snowstorm. After making an assortment of our family's traditional Christmas cookies, Abe & I went outside with the kids to make a snowperson. Abe has a talent for rallying children to "break" the rules of whatever game they may be playing. Want to play 20 questions? Okay, but you only get points for style (instead of "Is it bigger than a breadbox?", ask, "Would Genghis Kahn appreciate it as a gift?"). Hide-and-go-seek? Fine, but expect to find Abe clinging to the eaves of a building.

So instead of a snowperson, we decided to build a Griffin. It helped that my nephew was into Harry Potter. We had a stately lion base going, along with tail. But as Abe & my nephew worked on the ferocious fowl head, my niece (who also has a penchant for doing things her own way) started placing small triangles along the creature's tail and spine, stegosaurus style. In the end, it was more of an impression of Griffin ferocity, with the scales and inevitable drop in enthusiasm as the snow numbs fingers and the smell of cookies draws everyone back inside. But it was majestic in the moonlight and falling snow.

*In an effort to rid this post of gender bias, I have chosen to use the term snowperson in place of snowman. In future posts, I may employ the use of "co" as a gender-neutral pronoun: see this website which explains co's use in the alternative living community of Twin Oaks, Virginia -- hammocks and soy products for all!

things this snowman might be doing

1. down dog

2. succumbing to winter

3. seeing if he can still touch his toes, after all these years

4. checking his fly

5. preparing for a forward tuck

6. hanging his head in shame

7. saying, "augh - my back! my back!"

8. shimmying

9. navel gazing

10. walking into a stiff wind

11. meeting the Queen

12. checking his feet to see if he stepped in dog poo

13. holding up the world

14. sprouting angel wings

2009: a retrospective

Continuing my New Year's blog tradition, here's a look at 2009 through the eyes of journal entries I wrote, usually very late in the night.

January 1, 2009
I'm not a big fan of 2009--the actual year. It just doesn't sound inspiring. Let's hope it proves itself beyond expectations.

February 1, 2009
I woke up to the most delicious sound this morning--melting icicles dripping on the window sill. I drove to church with the windows down.

February 23, 2009
I feel a little older, because I like just sitting around and sleeping so much.

March 28, 2009
I'm about to settle down to some HG Wells as a bedtime story.

April 19, 2009
Work goes onward.

May 17, 2009

I think an important part of praying in faith is to have the action steps already in mind.

June 14, 2009

I planted an herb garden last week.

July 6, 2009

I was trying to go to bed early this week. Abe & I were on our way at 10:51 (9 minutes until my goal of 11 pm) when he started talking about his day and feelings. Some things are more important than bedtimes, and more important than goals.

August 14, 2009

We flew into Utah yesterday for our megathon of family reunions.

October 18, 2009

We got Jimmy John's subs and took them to the Public Policy building to eat in the student lounge because 1) it was the only place we know that was warm, and 2) the tables there have built-in backgammon boards and I had dice in my bag.

November 15, 2009

I felt like I missed an opportunity to understand someone because I was thinking too much about myself.

December 13, 2009

I'm warming my frozen feet in bed now with my bed bunny, a sock filled with rice and heated in the microwave--it kinda resembles a rabbit.

Now. On to 2010!