Snowman Snow

The front page story in today's Chicago Tribune discussed the different types of snow found across the U.S. and described the author's quest for information on where to find the best snow for making snowmen. What a delightful topic! I learned all kinds of things about the variable water content of snow, and carefully studied a map of the U.S. showing where 'snowman snow' most frequently falls. Guess what I found? I grew up in exactly the right part of the country for almost all snowfalls to be 'snowman snow'. Even though southeastern Virginia doesn't receive heavy snow very often, there is usually at least one substantial snow each season.

My sister and brother and I made some dandy snowmen in our time! One of my favorite pictures from my earliest years shows toddler me all bundled up in my darling snowsuit, standing delightedly beside an enormous snowman that my parents and our neighbor, Bobby Cook, had just completed in our backyard. For all of us, a decent snowfall meant fun building snowmen and having snowball fights.

Fast forward, if you will, to our little family's first winter in Chicago. My daughter was 3 1/2. We had lived in Charlottesville, Virginia her entire life, and had plenty of experience with both heavy snowfalls and good snowman snow. Naturally, we were elated when the first good snowstorm of the season covered Chicago with about 6 inches of snow. Time for our first Chicago snowman!! I stuffed my daughter into her Chicago-worthy red snowsuit, got myself thoroughly wrapped in my own winter gear, searched out our gloves and mittens and boots, and then she and I clambered down the three flights of stairs to the backyard of the 3-flat.

We stepped outside into a beautiful world. Pristine snow all around. Remember how much fun it is to make the first tracks in the snow? We had a good time doing that. Then both of us were ready to make the snowman. My daughter stood by, expectantly. I bent over and began to scoop up snow to form the initial snowball to roll around the yard and form the base of the snowman. But wait--something was catastrophically wrong. The snow wouldn't pack. I couldn't make a snowball to save my life. I would gather up handfuls of snow and they would just blow away in the wind.

What kind of snow was this?

My daughter looked at me and said "What's wrong with the snow?" I looked at her and said "I don't know. I've never seen any snow like this. I can't make a snowball."

We looked at each other in dismay and disappointment. The joy of our first Chicago snow fled as quickly as a snowman on a hot, sunny day. I just didn't understand this dry snow. I had moved to a truly alien environment. (Can you tell that I have never skied?)

We salvaged the morning by making snow angels, and of course had lots of fun throwing snow powder at each other. But the memory lingers.

My children grew up with very few opportunities to make snowmen, or even to throw real snowballs. No pictures of them standing proudly in adorable snowsuits beside enormous, wonderful snowmen. I don't, in fact, think there are any pictures of them with snowmen, although my son assures me that he at least remembers making one snowman when we lived in Lincoln Square in Chicago. My grandchildren, living in the same part of the country, will have only a few chances in their childhoods to make snowmen or snowballs.

I am resigned to winters with no snowmen, even though I have lived through some pretty significant snowstorms out here in the Midwest. Every now and then there is a storm that brings snowman snow, but those are rare and not to be counted on. So I shovel the white stuff from the sidewalks and admire the way the snow adorns the woods behind our house and growl at the ugly piles left by the snowplows, but I have yet to make a snowman here in Indiana. What a waste of all this snow!