Baby it is Colder out

I woke at about 7:30. There is a window, with the white lattice on the inside, that looks easterly. The sky was overcast and a bright grey. I dragged my sorry carcass out of bed. Staying up too late gets worse as the years roll along. I squared myself away and looked at the three lumps in the bed. K and the dachs were asleep and snuggled so well, I chose not to disturb them. the Golden Child was awake and wanted to go out.
Looking out that same window. It has a poor paint job that put small, unkempt paint streaks on the glass.
It is snowing.
I love snow. It goes way back to my child hood.
Puppette led me out to my coat and shoes.
I pulled on the thick fleece wind cutter and then crinkle swished the windbreaker rain shell over the top of that. A base ball cap went on my sleep tousled head and I slipped into cold Merrel mocs.
No sounds from the three lumps in slumber land so Puppette and I walked out on to the deck. Piles of leaves we have not bothered to sweep off the deck were crisp in the cold morning and it was so still. We walked... OK I walked, Puppette fairly gambolled into the front yard where the more energetic of us whirled and jumped and slid and rolled int he snow. I have more dignity than that.
I stood as still as the morning and closed my eyes. I wanted to smell the snow, smell the frozen leaves.
It was quiet enough, still enough,to hear the ice crystals of the very dry snow landing on the frozen leaves. It hit the dry leaves that have not let go of their trees for what ever reason.
Opening my eyes, snow, sticking and staying was all around me.

I spent 18 years in cold snowy winters, 18 years in wet, cold rarely snowy winters.
Now it is 3000 miles away but almost the same latitude as my boy hood home. It smells different. Not as clean, but with the musk of decaying wet leaves, wood smoke from over there, some where.

Puppette hit one patch and slid, losing all 4 feet and came to an undignified heap stop five feet farther uphill. She did not care, she shook off and ran even faster.
Where does one lose that devil may care attitude? When do you stop doing something not wanting to look foolish. Puppette could have cared less... she just wanted to run, play, be alive.
I found myself wishing for Dancer or Rudolph, the sled I grew up with. I know one of them is with my brother, his kids will ride them keeping them alive as they were for us, thrilled with the screams of a child, candle wax on the runners.

I wished for more snow and a sled. We do, after all, live on a big, long hill.
All day there was snow on the ground.
It rained hard and warmed up so the snow went away.
But it is early yet.
There will be more where that came from.
Next time, maybe I'll be the one who slides 5 feet uphill and stands up, shakes it off and runs some more.

C