The day after Christmas, it snowed. A wet, sticky, heavy snow that was just perfect for snowmen and snowballs. So we made a snowman…a big hearty fellow with a kind face and an orange for a nose. Being the highly original people that we are, we named him Frosty, and he seemed pleased. With his jaunty cap and festive scarf, he greeted passers-by on the road for an entire day. However, sometime on the second day, he fell, face down, as if he was taking a nap. I felt ridiculously sad about the whole thing, as I had liked this snowman more than a person should, and couldn’t bring myself to go look at him laying there. (You have to remember, I was the kind of child who cried when my favorite trees were cut down, and my “Chitty-Chitty Putt-Putt” car of my dad’s was sold.) I thought Frosty’s story was over, but I was very wrong. I had a wonderful surprise waiting for me that evening. Please tune into Monday’s installment to read the conclusion of the Snowman’s story. Slainte, Lisa
“Down thru the village” — Frosty rolled!
Yes, our little village has rarely seen such a fine snowman! 🙂
We return to that from which we came??? It’s hard to embrace a new life when we keep looking back! Instead of being a back-slider, Frosty is a front slider!
🙂 Good one!