Dreaming of grass

I think most of the country has been sleeping under a blanket of snow for the past few weeks; my sweet little southern hometown included.    The snow had just melted from the last round when we got seven inches of fluffy, wet snow on Monday.    That is what we have been doing here at the Huckablog World Headquarters instead of blogging–playing in snow and layering clothing.

The backyard looks so lonely.  Soon it will be a mud pit, and then we will be cursing how fast our grass grows. But, for now, I just miss hanging out barefoot in the grass.

The birds all disappeared.  For days there was no tweeting on our porch.  Then, yesterday, the sun finally peeked through and the birds popped out too, hungry for whatever they could find.

We threw snowballs, we made more snowcream, and, of course, we made snowmen.  Excuse me.  Snow PEOPLE.  Here is our snowlady.  She was ready to catch a ride to Destin, where the sand is as white as she is.  Poor thing’s head fell off because of faulty craftsmanship.  This  earned her the name Antoinette, but it has since been repaired.

We used the bottom half of last week’s snowman to make the middle of this one.  It had melted significantly, but still existed!   This is our rocker snowman–although what decade he rocked in I am unsure, he had eye make-up from the seventies, hair, gloves, and a guitar from the eighties, a shirt from the nineties, and piercings from the 00’s…..and strangely enough a Weiderkehr sangria bottle from a hardrocking party bookclub the night before.

A close up of his face shows an eye that reads less KISS and more country kitch, and an overly large tongue piercing.

The rumor is we have more snow coming tonight, tomorrow and again on Sunday.  I kinda hope not, because I think I am done with winter for this year–but just in case feel free to submit ideas for the next Huckablog family snow masterpiece.

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