I happen to be a huge fan of snowmen. There are several reasons why I am such a huge fan. First, there is Frosty. Every year I always look forward to watching the Frosty the Snowman show. It has such a catchy tune, and although it was sad, it was also magical, and when you are a kid you need to believe in magic just a little.
Then there are the numerous memories of going outside as a child and building snowmen. We would always go out during the first real snowfall. We had to check if it was the right kind of snowman building snow. It had to be the "packy" type of snow or it was no good. Sure you could make snow angels in the other kind, but only the "packy" snow was the snow that you could roll and build into your snowman. Unfortunately, the first snowman of the season's body was usually covered in dirt and leaves, but as a child you couldn't care less.
I still remember the best snowman that was ever built when I was a child. My brothers, cousins and I were all at my grandparents house, in West Berlin, Nova Scotia. It was great. We were all outside and we all rolled the giant snowballs to form the body. I still remember how cold it was. We were all so proud of this snowman. For us it was huge; it was the biggest snowman EVER. It took both my brothers and my cousins to place the snowballs on top of each other. Not only were they very large, but they were heavy. No I did not help with this; I was usually excluded from that sort of thing after all, as I was the smallest and the youngest. If I remember, I actually went inside during most of the assembly of the snowman. I was kind of useless as a child (weak and whatnot.) I know that I was the annoying little sister, which was something that I always tried to fix, with no resolve. You know those movies where there were older siblings and the parents ask them to take their younger sibling along with them and they responded 'Do we have to?' I was the younger sibling. Anyway, our giant snowman was a great achievement for all of us. We were all really proud of it; there are even photographs of it somewhere.
Of course, when I was older the joy of snowman building included both of my girls. It was time changing hands. Now I was the parent looking out the window at my girls making snowmen. They had so much fun. When we were all together, we were a family.
I still believe in magic. Crazy huh? You just need to watch kids make snowmen. They'll dig deep below the snow to find just the right rocks for the eyes, and buttons. They'll ask their parents for a carrot, a scarf and an old hat. The magic is what happens afterwards. When you drive by that house, if you look at that snowman you will remember building them as a child. That smile you feel, that is the magic.
:o) Let it snow!