Snowy Night.

So I finished crocheting a scarf last night and braved the snow to go get a celebratory bag of chips.

I’m stomping along,be-muffled, be-scarved, and be-hatted. I have tunnel vision. I am also marveling at the traction I get when I wear weather-appropriate shoes. Suddenly, I hear this voice. It’s challenging and happy-sounding.


I look around. There’s no one but the girl on the other side of the street. “Me?”

She nods, the movement almost obliterated by her hood. “Are you ready?” She scoops up some snow. The gauntlet has been thrown down!

I scoop up snow. “I’m ready!”

She throws. Aim way off. I throw. Ditto. I am not an athlete.

She scoops again, but this time, her aim is a car crawling down the usually busy street at 10 mph. She misses spectacularly.

I laugh. Motorists have nothing to fear from her terrible aim. I throw another at her, which sails about four feet over her head.

She laughs and aims another one at an F-series pickup. Hits the bed. The driver opens his window and yells something, but we can’t tell what it is. He might be telling her off, but who cares? What the hell can he do, sailing along at a majestic 15 k? Hot cuppa Jack.

My erstwhile opponent jogs across the street. Under the hood, she has that kind of blonde hair that is mostly associated with women who get outside a lot, as opposed to women who go to a salon. She has blue eyes and is giggling.

I can’t help it, I start giggling as well. We are strangers, nothing in common but snowballs.

“Isn’t it marvellous?” She enthuses in an accent that sounds German to me.

“As long as we’re not driving.”

“Who wants to drive? Ever?”

I think about the guy in the F-series, battling the elements and pissed off that somene lobbed a snowball into the bed of his truck. “Not me.” I look at her. “Are you German?”

She scoops up some more snow, intent on missing another car with her snowball. “I’m Swiss.”

“Cool.” We both lob snowballs in perfect arcs that sail majestically over a Honda Accord.

I’m okay with my long snow-bullying yesterday. I’m okay wth everything, thanks to a laughing Swiss woman in the snow.

Lesson learned: Stop being a grump. Take the opportunity to have fun. And shut up and throw.

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