Building a Snowperson, Take 1

As part of my resolutions, I set the personal goal of building a large snowperson (I said snowman at the time, but have been told that the term was not gender inclusive and could be taken offensively). Last Sunday night, I made my first attempt at achieving this goal. Attempt is the key word here...

Growing up, I had always been told that the Eskimos had something like 30 different Eskimoan words that meant snow. I never understood why this would happen or why this was worth mentioning in so many different courses spanning from my time at Crown Point Elementary up to my time at Rollins (seriously, why were people always using the Eskimo language to argue philosophical ideas?). The point of all this is to say, that apparently not all snows work for building snow people. While the light, fluffy snow that fell on Sunday looked pretty and broke my fall when my "sweet" boyfriend pushed me into a plowed mound, it didn't really work for my purposes. It stubbornly refused to stick together and insisted that it would play no part in our construction attempts. So we resorted to non-traditional methods to construct the perfect snow person. For example,

Jeff employed the doggie-paddle method to move the snow into a mound that could possibly be shaped into a base. Once we had a mound, which I suggested we leave as is and call Mt. Everest (making us lazy or geniuses??), we instead attempted to construct a person. The light and fluffy snow had other plans and never became sturdy enough to support a body. Luckily, in Jeff's doggie-paddle efforts, he uncovered a large chunk of lightly-packed snow that we rested on the mound to give the impression of a snow-lady. Although you cannot see it in the picture, our snow lady represents a blending of different mediums, as demonstrated by her snow constructed body matched with a her one twig and one icicle arm.