With the snow blowing in this week, my excitement grew and stayed at a recent high. I love the snow. I embrace it. Even when every weather channel is insisting nobody step foot out of their house, I do. Because why wouldn't you? Why would anybody not cease the opportunity to go outside and make a snow angel or have a snowball fight with their friends and family. Maybe try and make a snowman taller than yourself or even get crazy and call every person in the neighborhood and play a game of football.
This is my favorite memory of the snow. Records, not my memory, indicate a blizzard blew through Utica, New York on the day I was born. The snowfall in the western part of that state is regular and each winter comes in bunches. I have plenty of good memories of that. But, as a young kid, calling every other kid whose phone number I knew and telling them to meet us at the football field for a game in the snow is absolutely and easily the best memory of the snow I have.
Walking around campus with snow all over the place caused a yearning for that childhood memory I haven't felt probably since I was a child. What I would do for one afternoon of football with my brothers in the snow followed by a host of the local pre-teens gathered around the heater vent in my house waiting for someone to learn how to make hot chocolate.
Snow angels are for wusses. Kidding. Maybe. Good post.
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