Memory # 2, or, One of the Best Christmas Presents Ever

There was this Christmas when I was about 10 and Alex, my sister, 2.

She was old enough to be sad about there being no snow on Christmas, which we were used to cos at my Gran's house, we usually have at least a little bit. When I was wee, my Gramps used to tell me it was my job to shovel one of the following off the roof: a) the snow or, b) reindeer poop or, c) both. I was mostly sure it was a joke so I'd laugh big along with the adults but secretly I'd wonder, heh.

So yeah. We had the green Christmas blues.

This is us being sad. Or maybe we didn't have vertabrae.

But in any case, my Dad and my Uncle disappeared for a few hours while we moped about, probably being quite annoying.

They came back in the late afternoon with a truckload of snow! It was awesome. They'd driven the truck up some mountain, I don't even know where, and shoveled it into the back, came back and shoveled it all into an amazing waist deep pile of snow in the front yard.

Alex and I played and frolicked and ate as much snow as we could. We came in when it was dark, rosy cheeked, exhausted and happy. So thanks Dad and Uncle Lee.

(Also, I didn't do a great job of expressing the wonder of my Uncle Lee's mullet in those days. I am sorry.)

Just goes to prove that it isn't the big price presents that mean the most.