A Perfect Snowy Afternoon

It's time for Mama Kat's Writer's Workshop. Today's prompt:

Tell us about your idea of the perfect snowy afternoon





(Obligatory introductory material)
I'm snow fan of winter weather (get it?). Growing up in PA, and living in other areas of the Northeast for many years, I am so over snow. It's a lot of fun when you're a kid - I couldn't wait to get out there and go sledding or have a snowball fight. We'd play until the little bit of exposed skin (between the cuff of our gloves and the sleeve of our coats) was bright red and stinging. Heck, my brother and I even resorted to wearing socks on our hands when we wanted to go out and our useless, wet gloves were still drying on a clothesline in the basement.

(Transition)
But if I had to imagine a perfect snowy afternoon, it would go something like this...

(Click here to cue dream sequence music)
I had a gallon Zip-Loc bag of chicken and wild rice soup saved in the freezer - the perfect meal for a snowy day. While The Mister was outside cleaning off the car and van and shoveling the driveway, the soup slowly simmered in the Crock Pot. The city plow truck came up the street, pushing a ribbon of snow up over the edge of the driveway. 

"Damn, now I have to shovel some more!" The Mister cursed, his ears and nose tingling from the cold. The Boy was energetically shoveling the snow off the deck, stairs and sidewalk. Not normally so industrious, The Boy was working outside to earn enough money to buy 'Who Framed Roger Rabbit' on Blu-Ray. He wanted to be done with this stupid task and get inside and warm up by the fireplace.

The house was clean and comfortable; the scent of the simmering soup and the burning logs mingled, making the rooms feel more homey somehow. After dinner, there were plans for popcorn and a DVD - The Boy sprawled across the living room floor, and The Mister reclining on the couch, a chenille throw draped across his legs.

I sat on the edge of the bed, writing cheerful notes to those closest to my heart. I fished the postage stamps out of the zippered compartment in my wallet and, as a symbol of my happiness, I put a red smiley face below each zip code. I stood up, grabbed my sunglasses from the nightstand, applied some lip gloss, and walked out of the room shutting the door behind me. I looked forward to a stroll to the post office...if the Postal Service was operating at optimal efficiency, the cards should arrive before the snow turned to an ugly gray slushiness.

I walked purposefully, my shoes sinking into the white expanse before me. I listened to the birds twittering in the trees and wondered if the sun had ever seemed so welcoming.

I hope everyone likes their cards. It feels good to reach out and show my appreciation. I'm sure The Mister's heart will burst (with joy) when he reads his:

Honey,

Having a marvelous time! WISH YOU WERE HERE!

Love,

Kim

Copyright by Moyan Brenn

Surely, a PERFECT snowy afternoon would be one when I'm hundreds of miles away, basking in the sun and relaxing on the beach. Of course, as this is MY dream, I'll be sipping a yummy Margarita, and Raoul, my cabana boy, will be peeling my grapes or slathering my back with sunscreen.