SOLSC #4 Covert Operations on the West Coast

 

Today I join my fellow bloggers in
"serving up a slice" to the March SOLSC
sponsored by Two Writing Teachers.

Several weeks ago, my husband mentioned that he thought my snow people obsession was encouraging the nasty winter that our kids are enduring on the east coast.  I dismissed his claim and continued enjoying my wintry companions.  They comfort me when all the Christmas decorations are packed away and the gray Northwest gloom settles in for winter.  This year I added my heart ornaments to the display for February.   I usually keep the snow people out until spring officially arrives the middle of March.

However, some of you have complained about the new weather word, "Snice" (snow + ice) which you insist is "not nice", you've reversed the superstitions ensuring snow days so that you'll have school, and you now greet snow days with groans as you worry about how long you'll be in school until all these days are made up.

When my niece from Oklahoma responds on Facebook, "Yes, Aunt Mona, please pack up your snowmen,"  I  know that the time has come.  I spend a day thinking about it and when I arrive home on Monday evening, I begin covert operations to round up my snow people.  I turn the mantle lights on one last time giving each person a farewell glance as I tuck him or her into the box with a "see you in November promise."

I finish the roundup in a mostly dark house with few lights and no observers.  Shhh!  I don't want old man winter to discover my plan or hubby to express his delight.  And I must admit the dark matches my mood.

Snow people packed, check!
Snowman beany baby retrieved from church bag and tucked into box, check!
Snowman tower packed, check!
Snow people salt and pepper shakers stowed in the cupboard, check!
Snowman tin awaiting cookies for a return trip to TX stashed in Christmas closet, check!
Snowman door hanger tucked into closet, check!

I unplug the white lights on the deck and wander upstairs to write my blog post.  When I spy a snowman pin on the chest, I quickly stash it in a drawer.  I remember the snowman holding a heart in my classroom (took him there for Valentine's Day).  I'll retrieve him soon.





I breathe a sigh of relief knowing that I've done my part to kiss winter goodbye, but I refuse to part with this last token of my snowman obsession.  Sorry, but he stays on the kitchen counter to watch over my baking until spring officially arrives on March 20!