Snow Witch

It was a moment of deliberation. While wiping down the kitchen table, cleaning up the whoosh of a mess from lunch and our preschool party, I glanced out the window. Eliza’s shoulder bumped up against a huge ball of snow. It looked like a gigantic cinnamon roll, trailing a path of grass and leaves in its wake. Eliza was grimacing, incapable of pushing it another inch. Pretty impressive, I thought. She’s gotten it that far by herself?

I watched for another sixty seconds, weighing my options. Join the girls outside? Or bask in the satisfaction of a clean kitchen?

I tossed the washcloth into the sink and grabbed my gloves.

Together, we pushed, packed and smoothed that perfect consistency of melting snow. The sun poured warm light down our backs as we stacked our icy creation. What started out as a regular ‘ol snowman morphed into something much more exciting. A Snow Witch! (How often does it snow before Halloween?)

The girls found sticks for arms, we poked a witchy grin onto the face of our little lady, and Eliza conjured the idea of green hair underneath a pointy hat.

“He he he he he…” we cackled, as we sang our “Mean Old Witch” song and the girls ran circles round our new friend. They named her Alice. “Alice the Witch.”

It was by far, the happiest part of my day. The afternoon dripped slowly as we molded snow and memories together. Delighted with our final creation, I stepped back to watch the girls gallop through the yard. They licked fresh handfuls of snow off their mittens, and I wondered – what if I had stayed inside? What if I had kept the blinders on?

Too often the days tick by, chock-full of tasks and get ‘er dones. Too many days I muddle through feeling more Witch than Mom.

But since the retreat, I’ve been thinking a lot about margins – making space to live, not just survive. I’m trying to build them in, so I can increase availability, patience, and time for things I love. I need more place for spontaneity, and slowing down.

Yesterday, as the sun worked her final hours of decimation on Alice, we ran outside for one more picture. We screeched and moaned, “I’m melting…. I’m melting!” (I couldn’t resist.)

Moments like this melt quickly too. They dissipate like water. If I keep scrubbing and wiping until I’m ready to play, I’ll look up to find the moment gone. A missed opportunity puddling at my feet.

My friend Sarah, lives by this quote. “Slow down and everything you are chasing will come around and catch you.” So true, isn’t it? I’ve got to care less and enjoy more, make witches rather than be one, so that all those good things I’m looking for can find me.

Happy Halloween friends.

Here’s to margins. And magic. And memories.