It was the first of the two Christmases me, wife and first daughter, and newborn second daughter spent in our time in Washington state.
Coming from the deep south, snow was just an image to sell Christmas nick knacks and tacky cards.
That is, until the blizzard.
Our parents, and a few of my siblings decided to amtrak from New Orleans to us, as it was a little cheaper than flying.
I learned that our parents before they were tied down with kids and life would travel together to play in snow at relatives, or offer to watch a house in the winter, just to get to see snow instead of dead leaves and bitter climates.
Me and wife could not host, but one of the very out there uncles had decided to say fuck it to winter and took his wife, mistress and her girlfriend to some tropical island, and left our folks the keys to his faux chalet outside of Castle Rock, a a nice drive north east of the town we were staying at.
So we met everyone there, discovering my job basically shut down for even a small flurry of snow. Wife's diner job was on break, as the owners wanted to spend time working their truck stop, to help cold truckers with a warm meal and kind word. But they did not need my wife there, but were nice enough to give her the month's worth of pay, to ensure she shows up to the diner when the winter weather tapers off at the end of January.
Understand why I loved that truck and was devastated when an asshole backing up heavy equipment totaled it.
It went through 2 pairs of snow chains, 4 freeze plugs, which if anyone tells you is hard to replace, tell them all you need is fishing weight lead and patience. And a radiator hose.
Nothing short of the second coming of Christ would stop that truck, as she was like a fit, trim woman who was heavy into exercise, just cant be stopped by silly things like snow, cold weather or even high winds trying to push her off a highway on a cliff.
My truck was like my father's truck from when I was a little boy lost at the camp, you could hear her singing up the road.
It got us to the large house safely, and not once did the heater conk out.
Understand we were almost out of the new parent freakout stage, as first daughter was in the put everything into her mouth phase. I ran into the house asking my mom for blankets to bring the fresh (3 weeks) old in.
My mother, who is a true mother, like if there was a school for motherhood, she would be both head professor and Head Mistress.
She told me that the baby will be fine in the twenty foot walk from the truck to the porch.
I was full of doubt.
My mother explained to me the genetic level survival mechanisms for infants.
One is, if its too cold, the baby's body will pull blood from its extremities to keep its core and brain warm.
But It may appear lifeless, but once the body is warm it will wake up like it went to sleep.
This I called BS on.
So my mom called my grandmother, and she relayed the story of how she and my mom thought I was dead, when my mom was bringing me home from the hospital in 10 degree weather.
They thought I died, and ran back into the hospital, and they called my doctor, who walked into the ER, ordered me given the warmest bath ever, not hot, but warm, then swaddle me in two blankets and let me rest.
But what really woke me up from my near supposed death?
Food.
A bottle placed to my lips.
My mother and grandmother lost their minds.
Dr. Mclaude told them that babies are not entirely fragile when it comes to cold. But do not foolishly test it either.
Grandma said I woke up hungry, angry and tired.
So, I trusted my mom, and as most cases she was completely right.
Second daughter did not even have any traces of wind burn. She was cranky as her diaper was pissy.
So once we were inside, I changed her on the bar, and once she was clean and dry, wife gave her, her dinner bottle and all was well.
So once everything was settled down, our parents spent some time with the babies, of course. While me and wife were deciding if we wanted to play in the snow.
Dad said, if we wanted to "play" in the snow, then I had to borrow his entrenching tool.
Because, snow is a good insulator, and if we wanted to play, then it would be fun to build a snow dug out, out of the wind, where we could start a small fire, share some wine and "play"
Mom told wife to bring some udder balm.
"If it can keep cow tits from being chaffed from milking, in the cold, it will keep certain things from getting cold chaffed."
Well after getting ready, it was not really all that great, "Playing" in the snow, because the dugout only allowed us to missionary "Play" from behind, and the fire needed constant attention to keep the level of warm for us to "Play."
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I told my kids this story, omitting the "playing" because it does not snow often like it is doing right now in P'cola.
Amy and the girls went out in it today to play, as the schools were closed and work halted due to it being below freezing.
I taught them a trick my dad taught me, how to build an igloo, using plastic square gallon ice cream buckets.
So now my yard has snow tits, as the girls built the igloos close together, and my wife showing her deep depths of maturity colored some snow with old cold coffee, and made nipples for the tops.
She wonders why people look at our house funny.