Snowing

The girls and I spent a good hour in the library after lunch today; I felt happily surprised and liberated by the fact that my library card was clean and clear (I'd believed I had lost a book) and found a nice stack of picture books to see us through the week.

When we pulled into our driveway, I saw an enchanting site: Martin, covered in snow, clothed in red stocking hat, standing with pruners in our garden, clearing and staking trees. We piled out of the car, tipped our heads back, and stuck out our tongues; the snowflakes are so heavy today, when the temperature wavers just above freezing, that you can gaze at a snowflake some thirty feet above you and watch its slow and meandering descent down to your open mouth. Quite a few hit me in the eyes and finally I was so soggy and cold I came inside and put on the teapot.

But the two older girls still stand outside, their tongues out, busy being "Snowpeople" who are "Snowing," which causes much hilarity between them. . ."Just caught a pike!" one says, and the other: "I got a huge trout just then!"

Advantages: you don't need bait; you can stand in your boat; there are so many fish and no hooks are necessary.