We're going to have to buck up and take the children into the snow today. I've been putting it off all weekend due to the fact that I HATE snow and being cold. I dislike it so much I don't even think its pretty. My ideal winter, of course, would be the hot hot dry dry north wind blowing sand everywhere and everything getting chapped in the dryness but so cold at night that you can put on a sweater and a pair of socks.
Instead of that, I have five children's worth of snowsuits and boots to dig out of bins This Morning because I have managed to put it off this long. Our old neighborhood included lovely children who would come and take my offspring into the snow while I stood at the window and snapped pictures. This new house is on a busy street and so Someone will have to go out with them. I'm assuming, of course, that that Someone will be Matt but since the snow began we have ceased making eye contact whenever the subject arises. Matt says with his lips that he "loves the gray sky of winter" but he hasn't made any move to take any child out in it.
While I am wrestling with crying sniffly frozen children this morning I will remind myself that Dante's lowest part of hell was actually cold, I think, not hot. Clearly God agrees with me.