It's the epitome of a winter wonderland here. We've had snow, fat and flurrious, white and wondrous, softly falling, whipping sideways, whiteout sifting, all day. Sometime around midday, I heard the thunk and swoop of the shovel; Anders was out futilely clearing the driveway as the flakes floated down around him softly and quickly re-coating everything. The kids bundled up and took off like rockets into the snow. I had been admiring the pristine...and trackless...vistas from the window and was suddenly jolted from my reverie by the knowledge that every soft white surface would shortly be a churned and stomped snow-mash landscape. Freelance kid sculpture was in progress as I headed around the front of the house, camera in hand.
Anders had abandoned the hopelessness of shoveling for the far more enticing activity of building a snow fort, using Clifford the Big Red Rock as part of the fortifications. They piled and molded and sculpted and patted for over an hour, perfecting Cliffordborg. Halfway through they abandoned the construction project for the far more satisfying giant snowball fight that roped in several other neighborhood munchkins against Anders, and I left for the mall (After! Christmas! Sales!)...and by the time I got back it was too dark to take a good photo, so hopefully I'll get one tomorrow.