When I was growing up, my aunt and uncle lived next door to us and the properties were connected by a common lawn. Meaning, as kids, we had full access of running around at both places and an open door policy at both houses.
On the other side of my aunt’s house, opposite the driveway, was a long, tall wooden fence. During the winter, when my uncle would snow blow, a huge mound would be created, a valley of snow would emerge between the mounds and the fence.
That’s where the forts and snow tunnels would be built.
Snow igloos and forts, I believe, are a rite of passage for kids who live in the north or north east. Honestly, it’s one of the best parts of winter.
Alas, it may also be one of the most dangerous. (Listen to me being a dad now.)
After what felt like twenty years of snowfall this year, the snow mound situation at the front of our driveway became quite a towering wonder of nature. Naturally, Little Bean and her friends spent all day creating a glorious igloo.
I complimented them, spent some time nearby as they played and then promptly filled that sucker in. Unlike my snow tunnels at my aunt’s house, this one sat right on the street, right on the curb actually. One pass with the snow plow while they were inside the igloo and it - and they - would be obliterated.
Hard call. They weren’t happy. I suppose in retrospect my aunt and parents should have been a bit more concerned as we created a labyrinth of snow tunnels back in the day. After all, it still could of collapsed. But I’m an old man now, you know how it goes. Just ‘cause I survived something when I was a kid doesn’t mean it was an ok thing to do.
I know, I know, get off my lawn and all that.
Anyway, we kicked ‘em into our back yard where the snow mounds were, admittedly, not as tall but at least they wouldn’t be wiped out by a passing car and I could see them from the house. It’s the little things - give them space, let them be (sort of) in danger but not too much, and be there should things go sideways. Nothing new, right?
We used to hang out back there in the snow fort valley, me and my buds, sucking on icicles in our snowsuits with Wonderbread bags in our rubber boots. That’s a good memory, even if in retrospect I realize one of those things could have caved in at any moment. (Sidenote: Writing this make me miss my aunt and uncle. I’ll put them on the list of things to write about.)
Anyway, the kids ran around out back, got soaked and froze and eventually came piling in getting everything wet and looking for hot chocolate. They seemed to have forgotten about the filled in front yard igloo, which I suppose is for the best. Besides, there’s plenty more on the way. I heard another storm is coming. And another.
Lots of time for good memories.
Since we grew up just a mile away from you, Dan, I'm surprising no one by saying that snow forts and tunnels were a yearly happening. And yes, we'd make forts in the back and front yards too! But my favorite memory you jogged was of the Wonder Bread bags on our feet. Everyone had bread bags keeping our feet dry (or damp, or soaked if we tore through them making forts). Fun stuff!
Grew up in Allenstown, decent hill for sledding at the top of the street. My sisters and I were preteen, would try anything once. They said," Lay flat on the toboggan next time down!!"... so I did. We had built a snow jump. I went airborne. My jaw came crashing down on that curved part and my bottom teeth went right through my lip...bloody mess. Glad you're watching your daughter, kids try the darndest things!