The Snowy Day

We have this book checked out from the library right now. And another copy is hiding behind the couch waiting to be wrapped. It's a simple, beautifully illustrated story about the joys of a snowy day... through the eyes of one little boy.


We read it Tuesday at bedtime, and Buby said, "I wish we can have some snow." I answered, "Me, too." Wednesday morning we woke up to a winter wonderland as far as the eye can see. It was the first of many snow-covered mornings around here. School was cancelled. Bleu's gym class was cancelled. Tom's train into the city was cancelled. All was well with the world.


After lunch Buby and I took off on foot. The first stop on Buby's snow day excursion was the coffee shop to say hello to Brian. I warned Buby that the cafe might be closed, and he persisted, "Even if they are closed, Mama... can I stop to say hi?" {He knows our friend Brian ~ the coffee guy ~ lives upstairs.} I said, "If it's open we can stop."


Then it was over to the bakery to say hello to Stacy. Buby ran ahead of me. "Stacy? Stacy? Are you here?" She emerged from the kitchen all smiles for her cutest customer. "So what will it be today?" A raspberry surprise?" she guessed. Buby graciously responded, "First a carrot cupcake for my Daddy. Then I'll take a raspberry surprise. Thank you. And yippie!!!!" Two jumps for Stacy.


Heading home we made footprints {with our toes facing inward and also facing outward ~ creating a sort of butterfly pattern}. We made tracks by dragging our feet deep. Buby made a dozen impromptu snow angels, holding his raspberry surprise high in the air and shooting snowballs at my legs. We jumped over slush puddles to cross the big road and ventured up the steep steep hill in front of the library, pretending to fall backwards all the while. Then we cut through the church yard... that pretty old white church with the maple tree we love to play in. Buby searched for sticks sturdy enough to knock snow off the branches, just like in Keats' book. I started to build a snowman.


Buby helped me roll and carry three ginormous parts. They were the perfect amount of sticky. Together we patted and smoothed and added eyes of grass, a mouth of straw, and sticks for arms and hair. Funky hair, I might add. When it was time to head indoors Buby walked up the snowman, gave him a big hug and whispered, "Now don't you melt on me, Frosty. Promise me you'll be here the next day. Okay?"


Later that day I reminded Buby of the book Snowmen at Night, a seasonal title we loved last year and that has not yet been selected from our holiday book bin this year. I convinced Buby that maybe ~ just maybe ~ snowmen have secret lives while we all sleep. They dance and play and slide happily through the village streets with their frozen friends. At bedtime we made sure to press our faces flat against the window above Buby's pillow and realized that ~ WOW ~ we could see Frosty from there. Of course I suspected Buby would pull an all-nighter trying to catch him in action.


After getting Bleu down to sleep ~ eventually ~ I went back to check on Buby. He was sound asleep, but his curtains were open and his shade up. Ha!


This morning there was a good deal of hypothesizing going on. Did he or didn't he? Is he in the same spot? Does he look different? The sunshine blocked our view. It was 20 degrees, so we didn't venture out all afternoon. Around 5:30pm, on our way to Buby's winter concert, he asked me to drive by the church to check on Frosty. Would you believe... that snowman was a completely different shape? Not melted. Not moved. But with a pronounced arch on his back, as if he'd been dancing the whole night through.