Since it's almost Christmas and still not a flake has fallen I thought I would re-post this little story from a couple years ago.  Enjoy your holidays and as the song says I hope there's snow and mistletoe...just enough, not a ton, just some flakes and ground cover.

The week’s snowfall, although forecast to be much more, brought only a measly two inches or so.  I’m not complaining by any means. I know a lot of people got a foot or more. Even with this puny amount of snowfall I had an overwhelming desire to build a snowman.  I would just have to improvise. I know snowmen in my part of Virginia, even pygmy ones have a life span similar to a fruit fly, but I figured what the heck.   I always enjoyed scientific experiments so I figured I would document the life cycle of a Virginia snowman for posterity.

9:00 a.m. – I realize there will not be enough snow to build a regular size snow person so I settle on a miniature one.

9:18 a.m. - I look out the window at the snow and calculate where the best spot would be.  Since the snow is a bit crusty I decide to wait a few minutes for the snow to get a bit wetter.

10:00 a.m. – I check out the snow and it appears to pack well enough to get to work.  After all I only need a small amount.  In order to avoid a trip to the Chiropractor, I settle on a bench to start my experiment. 

10:05 a. m. – Bonus! I find out that a mini snowman gets created much quicker than the larger kind.  I use some peppercorns from my kitchen for his features, wrap a scarf around his neck, and put a doll hat on his head and step back to admire my creation.  Darn, he doesn’t come to life so I guess there wasn’t any magic in that hat.

10:10 a.m. – Finished!  His day begins.

11:15 a. m. – I go outside to check on my snowman and find he is sitting in a puddle.  Oh no, the melting has stated.  He looks a bit bedraggled and has lost an eye.  Note: Virginia winters are not very kind to snow people.

1:37 p.m. – The end is near.  I go outside and discover that he has fallen, and yes, he can’t get up!  His hat is upside down and filled with cold water.  It is the beginning of the end.

3:00 p.m. – Nothing left but a puddle, a hat, a few peppercorns and a very wet scarf.  Farewell, little snowman. I know, I know I won't cry,  you will be back again someday!

J