Snow! Lots of snow! The Alberta clipper blew in like a Texas tornado last night, burying everything in fluffy, white, cold snow. The house shook from the windblasts. Though Lizzie gave me two more blue-ribbon quilts, my teeth chattered as I lay in bed.
Finally it’s morning. Even though the days have gotten shorter, and it’s still dark outside, I can see a white blanket through the attic windows, covering everything.
I’m excited until I realize what it means. My delivery business is doomed.
At breakfast Lizzie asks, “Where are your new clothes and boots?” I look around the kitchen table and see the four brothers are dressed in bibs. Then I look at the coatrack at the back door and see four parkas. In the boot tray are four pairs of Wellingtons.
FJ gives me his look, and I go to get into my new duds.
Walking to school, I see a plow pushing snow to the curb along the street and people shoveling sidewalks. I pick up a handful of snow, shape it into a ball, and throw it against the side of a building. My first snowball! I make another, then another.
I wish my school friends in Laredo were here. They’ve never seen snow either. We could make a snow fort—and have a snowball fight!
I debate skipping school altogether so I can play in the snow, but I have a test in Math today. As I turn toward school, I notice other kids in similar clothes, looking like miniature Technicolor versions of the Michelin Man.
Mandy’s coat and pants are strawberry pink. “Hey,” she says, waddling up next to me. The snow is knee-deep for her. “Don’t walk so fast,” she complains. “In case you haven’t noticed, my legs aren’t as long as yours.”
“What’s that stuff the snowplows are putting on the street?” I ask, slowing down.
“Cinders and sand. It helps the snow melt and gives the tires traction.”
Cool. At least I can still deliver Nova for Miss Peachcott.