It was a snowy Monday afternoon, the first of it's kind in the new year. My new friend, who I had only met two days prior, came for a visit. We had a particular goal on our minds: build an epic snowman. Both of us being Texans, we had little and less experience with the dry, powdery snow north of our latitude, and our lack of expertise proved to be a handicap. We didn't let that deter us, though, and toted a gallon-size thermos back and forth from the kitchen faucet to sludgify our snow into proper building material. After much brainstorming, theorizing, and otherwise playing with the snow, it began to take shape:
This little 3-foot guy was what we accomplished. And we were quite proud of him. At first, he had a little nose. Then we decided to stick with the more conventional facial decor:
Carrot nose, wood-chip eyes, and icicles for arms. The smile was achieved with a long stem of grass. He was dubbed 'Andrew Wong' for his eyes and incredible intellect. Satisfied with our work, we went inside and warmed up with tea and banana bread. Only a few days later, however, tragedy struck:
The snow melted, and with it our Andrew.
This Friday, to our delight (and driving inconvenience), the snow returned. The next morning, my husband and I set out to build a snowman once again, but this time, I was determined to create a snowman that would stand the test of time, and last long after the rest of the snow was melted. Much more engineering-minded than either my friend or I, my husband set quick to work on building a huge walled base for our snowman, and the progress went as follows:
Snow piled in a central location. Water poured to pack and form into walls. A large snow bowl formed the base, was filled in and built up with packed snow, and potfuls were stacked on top. As an added bonus, the snow piled on our cars were used to save time and energy later.
After that, two woks full of packed snow formed the head. More packed snow shaped and filled in holes, cracks and gaps. Added some moss for the face and branches for arms. If you so desire, a wok-full of packed snow works great for a hat (my husband's touch).
