Ice Castles and Snow Angels

Making childhood exciting was my dad's job in life. As far as we were concerned, he was put on earth just to make us happy.
Growing up in Northern California was like a fairy tale for me. We lived in a big house with a huge yard, complete with a swimming pool we put up every summer in our back yard.
Winters were filled with snowball fights, making igloos, and shoveling out the driveway. The latter was my least-favorite thing to do in the winter. But the other things were great.
Dad would hear the weather man tell of a freeze coming on and, with the intention of saving the pipes from freezing, he would place the hose with a sprinkler high atop one of the oak trees near our house. Leaving the water running all night created a winter wonderland like none I've ever seen since. The "ice castle" would be amazing, icesicles hanging from the tree limbs, glistening in the morning light. We would awaken and gaze in awe at Dad's creation, wandering in and out, being careful not to cause the masterpiece to break.
We also laid in the snow, freshly fallen, and made snow angels by moving our arms and legs side to side. I can't say I ever mastered this feat, but instead allowed my younger sisters to excell far beyond me in the angel-making department. I always felt clumsy and awkward, even though my name means graceful.
Making igloos in the deepest snow was wonderful, especially sitting inside where no sound could penetrate. I imagined being an Eskimo, living in an igloo, going to school with snowshoes on, and wondered how much fun it must be for them.
My dad told stories of walking to school in the snow when it was over his head, and we laughed, not quite believing him but knowing it must have been hard for him to do. When it snowed alot in our town, they called off school and we all played in the snow, or stayed inside where it was warm.
Fond memories of days gone by. But what an exciting childhood it was....a winter wonderland was reality in our own back yard!

Dreams, Paper Boys and Hersheys

My dad turned 79 in September and I am so glad God has given him this many years on the earth.
He grew up in Alameda, California, and told us about when he was young, he sold the newspaper down on the docks to the longshoremen. He would get his pay and buy a box of Hersheys' chocolate bars. He would sit and eat every last one before he got home.
His dream was to be a fisherman. He always wanted to sit and fish on the ocean, mending his nets and spending time by himself.
Instead, my dad married at 23, had 5 children and became a school teacher, principal and then a superintendent before he retired.
He now lives in Oregon, with a wonderful woman he loves. He says she's changed him and I can only agree.
I am grateful for all he invested in our lives, and continues to invest. He's an encourager, a dreamer and a wonderful father.
Labels: Alameda, California, dreams, newspapers, teens