When I was growing up in Flagstaff, Christmas break consisted of hoping, praying and loving the snow. It was great for sledding, sliding, tracking, fort building, snow balling, icicle eating, skiing, snowboarding and socializing. Some of my favorite memories are of the late afternoon snowstorm that left just enough snow on the street by night fall for sledding. We would bundle up, go outside and dig out the sleds, toboggan, and vespa's. Vespa's were our little motor scooters that my dad would hook the sled to the back and pull us all over the neighborhood. Pure childish, bone chilling bliss. And we didn't have to walk back up the hill! The night would end after the last pulse raising, finger clenching, slide down the hill was over. I love the sound the sled makes as the runners glide through the cold snow! Numb, cold fingers; wet and missing gloves; snow crusted hats, scarves and socks; soggy boots; red Rosy cheeks; ice frosted hair; big happy, sleepy smile.
My kids are in a completely different world. We are one week away from the dreaded return to school. It seems like we just got into the rhythm of being together all day when it is time to mess it all up again. Anyway, tomorrow we are headed to the beach. We need the sand. It is nothing like the snow, but they have a fabulous time playing in it. Someday they will write about the sand fights, sand castles, sand sculptures, sand holes and sand in their swimsuits. It some how doesn't sound any where as glorious as the snow on Christmas break, but I hope it will be filled with sweet memories. Kids are great. Snow is great. Sand is pretty okay too, but truth be told, I could use a little snow right about now.