Ready and Waiting

My children are anxiously awaiting snow. Here in Montana, this is the first time- that I can recall- that it didn't snow by October. It is now November 2nd and there is snow in the forecast for Monday.

We've heard that before.

My boys have taken to riding around the yard on the lawn mower (recently gutted of all "mowing" parts so that we are not tempted to avoid buying a new one next year by trying to save money by "fixing" it) with a sled pulled behind it.

So, here we are, ready and waiting for snow to fall. Impatiently waiting. Longingly waiting. Waiting. Waiting. Waiting.

My mom was telling me a story yesterday about when she and my dad moved to Montana in '79 They lived on a ranch in Decker, MT. Just this side of the Wyo/Mont border. We moved to the ranch in the middle of winter, January, to be exact. Mom said that every now and then there would be a warm spell and she would catch a glimpse of the top of a can peaking out of the snow melt. She watched the can all winter. The snow would fall and it would be buried, then the sun would melt just enough to see the top of the can. She wondered what it was sitting on. A bucket? It was obvious that it was sitting on something since the snow was deep enough to have to shovel a path to the truck and barn.

Finally spring came. The snow began to really melt as the sun warmed the air. The can was exposed and Mom anxiously waited to see what it was sitting on. Low and behold..........

a picnic table. The snow was deep enough for a picnic table to be completely buried for an entire 4 months. I miss winter in Montana.

So... we wait.