Hubby and I have always been the type to make lemonade out of lemons (or in this weekend’s case, hot chocolate out of cocoa powder and milk…), constantly surrounding ourselves with friends who radiate that same mantra. I truly believe we could have a blast in a parking lot if stuck with the right people because in the brilliant
words of Dave Matthews, “Turns out not where, but who you’re with that really matters.”
We. laugh. so. much. That feel good giggle that comes from your belly, works its way into your soul and pours out through a full toothed smile. It’s the pure essence of soaking up all that life has to offer and recognizing the joy that’s in front of you. Kind of like when we were kids and viewed sheets piled on a chair as a fort in waiting rather than daunting laundry.
As a blanket of fluffy snow covered our backyard Friday evening, Hubby and I did what any mature, respectable adults would do. We bundled up and went outside to play. Together we formed snowballs and carved sculptures, jumping around to catch freshly falling flakes on our tongues. Reminiscent of the night we moved in and ran around barefoot, we checked our worries at the door, kissed under the open sky and squealed with joy like young children. (Well, I did…his was more of a manly sound…) For dinner, we kept our lighthearted vibe, trading a complicated kitchen mess for tried and true english muffin pizzas.
On Saturday, we walked with Mo to our friend’s house a few streets away. Hubby held my furry mitten covered hand as we went on an evening adventure through the semi-clear paths. The roads were desolate while the world was serenely white as street lights reflected off the gleaming snow. It felt magical.
As we approached our friends’ road we came to a hault. It hadn’t yet been plowed. There we stood, with a three-foot mountain between us and their driveway. (They did invite us over, right?) We looked at each other with a smirk knowing what we had to do. With all abandon we climbed through, our feet sinking in one after another as my just barely five-foot frame quickly became covered in freezing cold powder. Mo was happily zipped inside Hubby’s jacket and I was instantly grateful for my decision to chuck all fashion sense and sport my 80’s bright red leg warmers, which kept much of my lower quadrent dry upon arrival.
We warmed up inside and after a laughable attempt to order delivery, our friends prepared us thick, gooey grilled cheese sandwiches for dinner, before we snacked on goldfish and egg-free raw cookie dough. It was comfort food at its finest, highlighting some of life’s simple pleasures.
The four of us then made our way downstairs to the basement, playing games with their almost 2-year-old who refers to us as “Auntie” and “Uncle”. I squeezed into a laundry basket with him while Hubby pulled us in circles. We attached his automatic toy jeep to a wagon so he could drive Mo and his own dogs around on the wooden floors. More laughter. More carefree fun. We weren’t concerned about the weather outside or what the next day would bring. We were unapologetically in the moment being true and real.
On Sunday was our group’s beer brewing day which had been on the calendar for months. Our mutual friends managed to drive to our area safely, refusing to cancel due to the storm. They parked their car at our house a few blocks away and individually carried all the heavy materials to the street that remained unplowed. We mocked ourselves for how silly that seemed, yet embraced our quirky priorities. After all, it was difficult to take a storm named after a clownfish too seriously.
As our home brew simmered in the garage, we knew there was nothing left to do but build a snowman. We rolled and pushed, using all our strength to get that guy together. (It was quite a workout!) When helicopters circled the skies we joked that we were being filmed for what would be a record breaking creation and laughed some more. We befriended the other homeowners also spending their day outside who were in the same position as we were. We found our fun and made it happen.
Sure, it would’ve been easy to complain about the long hours of shoveling, inability to drive places, or blustery cold winds that hit our faces when we walked. But you know what was even easier? Overlooking the inconveniences and making the very best out of the situation put before us. Attitude is absolutely everything and this was another reminder of just how important that truly is. After all, you can never be too old for a snow day.