Wonderland Day Two

We awoke this morning from dreams of sledding and snowman building. Last night we formulated a Frosty plan. We had picked out button eyes and planned on stick arms and a baby carrot nose. We had located extra scarves and hats (still no gloves unfortunately). We ate breakfast quickly, dressed, and marched outside. What we found was snow too dry to pack. Just because you have three inches of snow does not a snowman guarantee make.

Carolina, upon learning her button placing (her intention of involvement) would not be needed, decided indoors was calling. And since she refuses to go anywhere alone, Birch went with her.

It's surprising how winded you can get from sledding. I don't remember that part from childhood. I'm guessing that's only a part of the sport known as Middle Age Sledding. But truthfully, it's the screaming like a little girl that leaves you breathless.

We discovered that no matter how you pushed off, you were bound to end up sledding down the hill backwards. Every time.


Juliana shed her sweater (see! no waterproof coats either. We really do have "Georgia Winter Clothes", nothing very useful for winter sports, just pretend Southern winters). I do realize that in these pictures she looks uncared for and unloved (and, well... cold). Please know that we promptly provided warm, dry clothes and a heated house).

Walter would stand at the top of the hill and wait for the launch. He then summoned all his border collie instinct and bolted after us, wishing only that we could go faster and provide more of a challenge.

Holt finally decided he wanted a thrill ride and sled until his fingers couldn't stand it. He then rode with me in front. There's really nothing like flying down a snowy hill with your arms around your son and your stomach in your throat screaming at the top of your lungs and vaguely wondering if it would kill him if you landed on him.

When frostbite became a distinct possibility, I convinced them to head inside with the promise of returning after lunch. But, as all good dreams must end, the mercury rose and Wonderland was gone. Folks around these parts (See! I'm starting to fit in here) say it hasn't snowed like that in ten years, so I'm not hopeful for a repeat. But while it was here, it was magic.