A Mother of a Snowball
Growing up in South Carolina, I probably saw snow a handful of times in my formative years, always a wet, slushy mess. On my fourteenth birthday, it snowed several inches. I remember getting out and playing in it with my then-boyfriend. Because it was little more than barely frozen water, our regular clothes were soaked within minutes, causing us to run back inside to warm up. Investing in snow gear for the once-every-few-years white blanket that was usually gone by morning was preposterous. This IS the South.
It’s hard to imagine it, but think – THINK – about July. You know July. You were just complaining about its blistering heat and oppressive humidity a few short months ago. Especially if you live anywhere near me.
We didn’t have central air conditioning in my house growing up. The whole place was cooled by a window air conditioning unit in my brother’s bedroom. It blasted down the hallway, the air more warm than cold by the time it hit the kitchen at the opposite end of the house. To deal with the heat, I let ice cubes melt in my mouth and did as little as possible, reading being the coolest activity I could find.
One white-hot summer day, my Mom called me to come outside. She was in the storage room, and I could hear her yelling through the thin kitchen wall. Because the washer and dryer were out there, I thought she wanted me to come and help her bring the clothes inside.
After pretending I didn’t hear her for at least five minutes, I finally dragged my lazy behind off the sofa and went out there, my bare feet sizzling like fresh bacon on the overheated concrete carport. Whining and complaining with my most diva-like airs, I came into the storage room…………..and was hit squarely in the face with a frozen snowball.
My Mom scraped up some of the last snow we had and saved it in the outdoor freezer. She probably planned that ambush for months and months, and I’m certain that I was always her intended target. I never knew she had snow in there, even though I visited that freezer quite regularly. It was the same one that housed my poor dead pet cow Boo’s pieces and parts, after all.
So, if it happens to snow where you are today, scoop some up and save it. It will be a welcome treat come July.