So I have a small obsession with snowmen. I love them! They are happy, smiling, and completely content with being round and plump! You can't be unhappy when you see a snowman, and unlike Santas there is no expectations of presents. You think happiness, hot chocolate and a good snowfall. What's not to love about that? Good news is that you don't find them year round so I only have to be immersed in my obsession for 3+ months out of the year. That's not to say I don't miss my jolly snowmen in the off season.
So of course when November rolls around, my snowmen start doing their Sugar Plum Fairy dance and parade around the house making their seasonal debut. Of course the theme of winter is snowmen everywhere, and my house looks like the pit stop for all passing snowmen. I have short ones, tall ones, ceramic ones, glass ones. I have nesting snowmen from Russia.
I have snowmen that are bells. (Does that make him a bellmen?) I have Polish pottery snowmen. I have snowmen that sing and dance. They light up and sparkle. There are a chain of snowmen that sit vigil in front of the TV. I have a parade of snowmen that Welcome you to my home. And others that wish you a happy wintertime in German.
They hang on my tree. They burn incense and pretend to be smoking. They decorate my mugs and kitchen dish towels. They hold candy, cookies and pictures. I can make snowmen cookies and muffins and serve them up on snowmen plates and platters. They even hold my poinsettias. Yes, I am in full addiction mode.
My kids think its funny to torture mom and switch up the snowmen. They put them in weird and compromising positions (I have a 16yo). They change my nesting snowmen and put different heads on different bodies. Sometimes its funny, and sometimes its infuriating. This picture was disturbing, even the snowmen looked appalled at this behavior. The fact that they are smoker snowmen might have something to do with that too.
And well my husband, he is a tolerant man and makes sure the kids don't break my snowmen during their creative shenanigans. Not to mention he likes to buy me snowmen which in turn feeds my obsession.
So the other day I am casually walking to the bathroom and I pass our small telephone table with a keys basket sitting on it. Of course there was snowman perched on that table, duh! Well my hand caught the snowman's arch, ring, whatever you call it (look at his picture and you'll the see the ring) and oops. I tried to save him but down he went on our tiled floor and KAPUT! That was the end of him. Death of a snowman. He had been with me for about 7 years, maybe more, and I will miss him. The funny thing is... I think he was ready to go. He looked peaceful and was actually smiling when I swept him up in the dustpan. He looked like he was ready to head on to his next adventure....where ever that might be. So here I post a memorial to that silly little snowman who even when I swept him up and tossed his remains in the trash, he still brought a smile to my face.