It seems like everyone has a snowed in memory.
I love to hear the memories from our residents--about the year they got married during the worst blizzard in fifty years; about the time they couldn't make it to their own Christmas program because of an ice storm; about the time the electricity was out for a week and they were so concerned about the pipes freezing.
I have a memory of my own, involving being snowed in with my sister-in-law and two nephews (my brother was on a work trip). The weekend was incredible--filled with making cinnamon ornaments, snow ice cream, buttery muffins, and popcorn. The lane was filled with over two feet of snow, church was cancelled, and Dad took one of the boys out to plow the snow and got his plow stuck. There are so many memories associated with that weekend that they come to me in a jumble, snatches here, snatches there. I will never forget that weekend and the snow that brought us together.
That seems to be the tendency with being snowed in, actually. People are no longer independent and self-reliant. When they get their vehicle stuck, they rely on their neighbor to help them pull out. When their electricity goes out, they ask a relative if they can shower at their house.
Snow also takes us back to an earlier time. When we set the milk outside to chill, we remember those who ran to the spring each morning to fetch the supplies for breakfast. As we scoop fresh snow into our bowls, we remember the many servings of snow ice cream that have gone before ours. There is something timeless about being snowed in, as if we are somehow connected to the generations of people before us.
As much as I dislike snowy road conditions, I relish being snowed in, and hope that you have the good fortune to have a snow-in like mine.