There’s snow place like home: Why I keep snow in my freezer.
I keep snow in my freezer.
In Alabama snow is rare. So years ago my daughter Isabel and I started gathering it each time it snowed. We put each scoop of snow in a baggie and stuck it in the freezer, marked with the year we collected it.
It may seem silly but it makes me smile when — on the rare occasion I can actually see the back of my messy freezer — I glimpse the baggied snow. Each time I see it my mind wanders back to the memories we made when we collected each snow sample.
Like the time Isabel got to see her first hard snow, in 2017. (When she was a baby we lived in New York City but she has no memory of this so we don’t count it.)
It snowed so hard in Tuscaloosa that night that it reminded me of my early-career, 20something days when I lived in Pennsylvania. The first time I saw snow there, I snuck out of the neighborhood bar/eatery away from my friends. It was around midnight and the streets were deserted. I stood in the middle of the road, stretched my arms out wide and looked up at the sky, feeling snow on my face. It’s still one of my happiest memories.
Now it’s the middle of summer and days are balmy, scorching, humid and filled with afternoon Southern thunderstorms. We almost need scuba gear to walk outside, the air is so thick with warmth.
Cold days, much less snow, seem a distant memory yet the topic of Fall and Christmas keep coming up in our house. We look forward to them. There is something comforting about knowing we will have an excuse to stay indoors, away from the maddening Covid-spreading crowds.
If it were up to Isabel we would get out Bree, our Christmas tree, immediately. (What? You don’t name your tree?) Isabel imagines we would hunker down with bad TV Christmas movies to make fun of, hot chocolate and popcorn.