Searching for Snow

It’s cold in Boston. Very cold. But still no snow. Apart from occasional flurries, there’s been nothing this year worth speaking of yet. The rest of the country, sure. But in Boston nothing.

Movie Dictator desperately wants snow. He’s South African, he doesn’t know any better. He becomes mesmerized at the sight snowflakes. We even had one little snowball fight! But it’s not enough. What he wants is a real storm, with a state of emergency and excessive snow shoveling. I keep telling him it’s not all fun and games, but he remains unperturbed.

So a couple of weeks ago, we got in the car and went in search of snow. More specifically, we went to Vermont. Even more specifically, to Killington. Now, you need to understand, we’re not exactly skier types. Not at all, actually. We felt totally out of plays in the Killington Village (or whatever it’s called), among all the sporty-looking people dressed in their bright skiing gear. But we did see some cars covered in snow, and this filled us with hope.

We drove a little further—by then it got dark—up a hill that looked increasingly deserted. And then, suddenly, we were at the bottom of a mountain. And all around us was…snow. Okay, it wasn’t real snow. But it felt real. And we saw how it was made—right there, in front of us.

Below is the evidence. The white round blobs are the snowflakes. Movie Dictator wouldn’t let me post a better picture of him (the dictator that he is), but you get the idea. Also, as a bonus, there’s a picture of me with bunny ears on New Year’s Eve.