Learn about the wonders of snow
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| Snow |
| When I was growing up in Southern California, going to the snow meant packing ourselves into snow suits and then into our 1969 Volkswagen van and driving up the winding road to Big Bear. When we got there, we would sled down hillsides until we were hungry, then we'd eat sandwiches Mom had made that morning. We'd pack snow into a cardboard box and tie it to the top of the van so we could play in it in our front yard when we got home. |
| Now that I live on the East Coast, I wait for the snow to come to me. For most of the ten years I've lived in North Carolina, it has snowed for at least one day, just enough to cover the ground and keep most folks home from work and school. Just enough to make a decent snowman, and for my husband to make snow cream. |
| "What's snow cream?" I asked the first year we were together. |
| "You don't know what snow cream is?" he asked, packing the side of our snowman's head down. |
| "Well, I assume it's made with snow and cream," I said. |
| "Very good," he said. "Come on. I'll show you." |
| He retrieved a bowl from his kitchen and filled it with the freshest snow he could find. Back in the house, he added sugar and evaporated milk to the snow and stirred the mixture around. |
| "Taste," he said, offering me a spoonful. |
| I was dubious about the concoction, but I ate it anyway. And boy, was it good. |
| What is your experience with snow? |
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