Let it snow ALREADY! It’s January and there is no white! That was okay when I lived in Nevada, but I’m in Idaho, for Pete’s sake. I’d like to go x-country skiing and make a snowman…and Ginger wants to eat it!
Never would I have thought I’d be wishing for snow as an adult. Snow makes driving a white knuckle experience, but I’d sacrifice and put up with that if the snow would just start doing its job. January is weird without white!
If you’re missing white like me, this post is dedicated to White Winters and all that goes with them! May it inspire the weather in your area to be a little whiter. This next picture shows a pretty pathetic Boise snow. You have to hurry out and make a snowman (even if it is only 5 cm tall) because the snow will melt by lunchtime (or Ginger will eat it all. You’d think I never feed my dog! Geesh!). But I’d take even one of those wimpy storms right now…I’m so desperate! Eskimos have a whole bunch of words to describe different types of SNOW—but I won’t confuse you with Eskimo terminology. SNOW is good enough for me. ANY SNOW…PLEASE!
Ginger loves SNOW. She has a snow nose, which basically means it’s pink instead of black…and because of her weird genetic nose disorder, she thinks she’s a sled dog. I’m not kidding! When we go on walks, she always pulls me (even though I’ve tried to train that out of her). It’s a genetic mutation and I just have to deal with the fact that my Golden Retriever is really a Husky in disguise. MUSH! MUSH!
Snow comes in handy when you have lonely sled dogs. My kids create snowy friends for Ginger to play with, and it makes her happy (and it makes me happy too because these white friends don’t poop or shed all over). See how playful she is with her new friend Twerp, or Twit, or whatever that turtle’s name is from Finding Nemo. She just brought the frisbee back so he can have a turn throwing it. What a good dog!
Sometimes though, lonely sled dogs can turn. See below for actual footage of my dog turning carnivore and eating her friend she’d been playing with only moments earlier. It’s terrible when it happens…and there’s no warning. One minute Ginger, my son, and Snowy are playing Ring around the Rosies…then the next Ginger’s tearing into her friend (and my son, who thinks anything gory is cool, joins in the cannibalistic meal). Bad dog! Bad son! I think this is called snow fever. There’s no fear of catching it this year).
If snow ever decides to come (and I’d prefer it to come in Jan-March please—let’s not mix up our seasons snow), I think I might go do a SNOW DANCE (kind of like my daughter’s demonstrating below). If you want to join me, this is how you do it:
- Get on your knees
- Push your face into the snow (or just your hair if you’re wimpy)
- Then shake your head back and forth and squeal real loud
- Then get up and do a jig however you like best (I like Elaine Benis Style myself).
So come on SNOW! Get here already! I’m itching to dance!