This past Saturday, we had our first snow of the year.

It was a bizarre snow storm. Our neighbors across the street didn’t have enough snow to use their sleds or make a snowman, but we had plenty of snow for both.

I dislike the snow. I dislike playing outside. I dislike being cold, being wet, and being muddy.

But I used to like sledding.

Grace had never been on a sled before this week. Old Grandma had given us a snow disk over the summer, and Joe was waiting for the perfect winter day to get it out. This past Saturday afternoon, he pulled it out of the garage, and showed Grace how to use it.

Our back yard is terraced. It has three short flat parts with two short, steep hills in between. The longest of the hills is at the bottom, just above Grace’s swing set/playhouse and our deck. Joe thought it would make the best sled run. He brought the snow disk up to the top of the hill, showed Grace how to sit in it, and -

posed for a picture.

When I’d been sufficiently annoying, I let them go ahead with the sledding. Here’s Grace as she came to the bottom of the hill:

I’d say that sledding was a success.

A subsequent run:

Grace laughed. She giggled. She got soaking wet and cold.

She refused to come inside.

My having fun, Momma! My not cold!

A few rides later, Joe decided to get in on the sledding fun. Off they went.

At some point, Grace started hauling the sled up the hill and pushing it down empty. No rider whatsoever.

She thought that was ridiculous and funny.

The thing Grace was most excited about was making a snowman; she’d talked about it since the first snowflake fell. We couldn’t go inside without making one.

Joe showed Grace how to make a little snowball and roll it around, collecting more snow. It took all of the snow on the flat part of our yard (and some from other parts, too), but we eked out a Gracie-sized snowman. A couple of rocks for eyes and a bamboo mouth, and he was finished.

Aw, my little snowman is so cu-u-u-ute! she squealed before hugging him.

After the snowman had been finished, I made a bubble bath sound really tempting. We played with duckies and got warm.

We finished up our magical afternoon with hot cocoa (extra marshmallows) and our Frosty the Snowman DVD. It couldn’t have been a better day.

In the days since the snowfall, however, we’ve had a tragedy.

Grace’s little snowman — has melted. {Insert sharp sigh and biting lip to hold back tears}

Grace did not see this coming, and it has struck her with grief.

Today, on the way home from school, she exclaimed with sadness, Mommy! My snowman is mel-ted!

“Yes, honey, it is. That happens to the best of ‘em.”

But HOW?

I hate the word HOW. Thanks to my sister, Grace asks HOW about seventy-three times a day.

“Snow is just frozen water, and it melts when the temperature is above 32 degrees.”

HOW?

“It gets above 32 degrees because the sun comes out and warms the earth.”

HOW?

“How does the sun warm the earth?”

Yeah.

“The sun shines on the earth, and the earth absorbs the sun’s energy, and it gets warm.”

HOW?

This continued the whole. way. home. I explained thermal expansion and the physics of melting ice. I explained cold temperatures and snow and freezing and thawing. It was of little comfort to Grace who mourned her departed snowman as if he’d been a longtime companion.

She’s broken up. Forlorn. Lachrymose.

I hope we get another snowfall, and soon.

Happily submitted to PhotoStory Friday, Friday’s Foto Finish Fiesta, Give Me Your Best Shot, Finer Things Friday, and Beautiful Life