Where We Bid Frosty Adieu

The state of Frosty last Tuesday, February 16, 2012

We pick up the story where we left off last week with Frosty slowly melting on our dock. He has been a good and faithful companion during these snowy pandemic days of February, and a delight to observe as the sun beats down and the temperatures rise and fall. But as we faced the inevitable demise of Frosty an idea popped into my head.

A contest! Let’s guess when Frosty will fall.

I know, it may sound rather odd to guess when this ill-fated snow-being will tumble and fall but this is what it’s come to with lack of social contact and our typical means of fun. I quickly penned a text to the family chain telling them of my offer.

Place your bets – when will Frosty fall? Or will he? Winner gets a batch of our family favorite butterball cookies.

The times trickled in throughout the day

Frosty sat rather content on the dock from Wednesday until Saturday when the sun came out in full force early in the morning. I started to notice he was beginning to lilt to the right, and was actually lifting off the ground by about 6 inches on his bottom left. I texted the family and noted that today may be the day. I began taking pictures to document the event.

At 9:44 I texted the family to say that he was leaning even more to the right. My son got very excited as he started to think abut his butterball winnings.

At 9:53am I heard a very loud bang. Looking up I saw that Frosty had completely tipped over on his side. I notified the family and could almost hear Jon’s screams of delight from 60 miles away.

While some disgruntled family members cried foul and claimed photoshopped pictures, my son focused on making sure the cookie delivery would happen sooner rather than later. We settled on making the trip up on Sunday afternoon and combining it with an outdoor visit while sledding with the grandkids. So it looks like we had winners all around. My son and his family won the cookies and I got an unexpected outdoor visit with the grandchildren! As well as a few leftover cookies while baking.

The progression of Frosty’s downfall


My daughter did lift Frosty up Saturday afternoon. He was a rather large chunk of solid ice. His head has since melted off and today’s 45 degree temperatures will surely do him in! Thank you again Frosty for providing a distraction from these grey pandemic days.

I’m joining the writing community over at Two Writing Teachers with my Tuesday slice of life story post today. Please consider joining in!


He’s looking at little droopy with his nose falling flat and his hair starting to freeze and fall out. The shell buttons are on the ground, and he only has one stick for an arm. He’s leaning slightly to the right and his smile is no where to be found.

This is the life of a snowman in Massachusetts.

Frosty, as he was named by my granddaughter, came to life ten days ago. The adults had to roll three hard packed snowballs across the snow before lifting them onto the dock, but the rest was done by the kids. There might have been some adult help in the securing of materials but it really was the kids crafting the design and placement of the features. Regardless he has been joyfully gracing his lakeside abode and adding contentment to my view each morning. He has changed a little with the weather, melting ever so slightly with the daytime sunshine, and freezing up with the nighttime air. And he has been repaired a few times over these days too: touching up his hairdo, replacing the dropped buttons, and even picking up his smile. Yet he stands with pride and honor at the ready to give our neighbors a smile.

On this rainy Tuesday he looks vulnerable, defenseless, and exposed. Yet his presence still brings a smile to my face as I recall the delight and smiles of bringing Frosty to life.

Please, oh please Frosty, stay a little longer. We all need a little more happiness!

It’s Tuesday and I’m sharing my post with the wonderful writing community over at Two Writing Teachers. Take a peek and consider joining in!

Snow Fun

I had just finished clearing the driveway with the snow blower FINALLY cooperating, (see last week’s post) and the sunny blue sky was calling me to stay outside. I had a yearning to bring my writing tools out to marvel at the wintery wonderland. My daughter handed me my writing tools at the front door and still dressed in my snow pants, hat, mittens, and boots I trudged through the snow covered path to the awaiting table. My new picnic table was covered in snow, but since it was light and fluffy I could readily brush it off and sit by the snow covered lake and admire the view.

I sat and listened to the sounds that surrounded me:

  • the drip, drip, dripping of the melting snow from the roof
  • the barking of the neighbor’s dog, hoping his owner would let him out to join me in the snow,
  • the scraping of a snow shovel against a nearby driveway.

There was a sense of serenity listening to the sounds of the day as I wrote in my journal, not wanting to pause my pen, yet not wanting to miss the sights and sounds of this peace-filled day. I sat and took it all in until…


My back was hit with a snowball. I looked to my right to find the culprit, thinking my daughter had snuck down to surprise me, but nothing. I turned to the left, maybe a neighbor playing a funny trick on me, but again no one. I sat silently searching and waiting for the offender to appear but alas no such person ever showed their face.

I looked one last time and saw a chunk of snow fall from the roof and land nearby. Hmmm – so it was my dear friend Mother Nature tossing snow from the roof at me, playing her little tricks and giving me an additional reasons to smile on this glorious winter day.

It’s Tuesday and I am joining the writing community over at Two Writing Teachers with my slice of life story. Won’t you join in?

Language Barrier

I started up the snow blower and leaned into the hard packed debris at the end of the driveway packed with thick chunks of snow and ice. The old machine gurgled and sputtered and slowly made it through the pile with great struggle. Twenty minutes in and puff, puff, sput, sput the behemoth clonks out right in the middle of the road. I am sure it is due to user error, because I am not a lover of this machine, nor know much about how this monster works despite several walk-throughs from my friends. Twenty minutes of pushing and heaving and my daughter and I manage to get the snow blower back in to the resting spot in our garage. I vow never to start it up. Maybe it’s time to pay for a plow driver to tackle this.
“What went wrong?” asks my brother in law after I came in from shoveling for two and half hours. I shared that the machine sputtered off while I was trying to get through the stuff at the end of the driveway. Maybe it was too much for our machine. But deep down I was certain it was user error. He promised he’d stop by to check it out.
A light dusting of snow came through last week and my brother in law is at the door for my tutoring. He leans over to peek at the machine and asks why the choke is turned all the way up? Hadn’t I turned it down after starting? I could only ask “which one is the choke?”

Language barrier

It occurred to me that each time I was tutored, well intention people had told me to turn up the choke, or turn down the gas thinking I knew what I this meant. And I am not blaming them I am blaming myself for not asking clarifying questions. Gas powered machines scare me. I put up a mental block, feign I understand because I don’t want to look silly, and hope it all works. But you all now know how that turned out. So this time I did ask those silly questions AND I took it one step further… I made myself a cheat sheet with language and pictures I can understand.

Wish me luck – we’ve got 12+ inches out there to tackle today! I think I got this.

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