We lived three blocks from the church. You may find that normal but living anywhere outside of Utah and being near a church is a very rare thing. Since we lived so close dad decided we should walk to church. High heels and skirts, suits and dress shoes - we walked and we held onto each other while we slippery slided our way up the road.
I remember one Sunday when dad had taken the car to church and we didn't know it. Dad had left the church, driven home and was hiding at the side of the house with a load full of snowballs. We were walking along enjoying the brisk Calgary air and beautiful blue skies when out of no where we are pelted with snowballs.
What the?
We look up and there is dad peeking around the side of the house with this huge smile on his face. He had a pile of snowballs and he was chucking them at us one after another. Of course we scrambled to defend ourselves.
In our church shoes we slid to the snow and with ungloved hands grabbed snow, molded it into a ball and began throwing them back at the enemy. So funny! This was totally premeditated because he had a bunch of snowballs all stored up.
Fun memory and for a minute there I actually liked the snow.
