Snow in the Ham

I talked to my parents, Maria and Andrea today. All reported that it is snowing on the I-5 corridor, especially in Bellingham, the town where I went to school at WWU. The first snow is always such an interesting time. Mostly I just tried to figure out how I was going to get to work at Bed Bath and Beyond. Driving to work when I really shouldn't have has resulted in a car accident and losing a tire chain in the middle of the busiest street in the city. No one ever goes shopping on days when it's snowing in a town that has not added good snowplows to its infrastructure even though every year there's always the inevitable snow that debilitates the whole town for awhile.

Last year's snow in Bellingham was interesting. I decided to walk to Fred Meyer (about 5 Bellingham blocks away) to get groceries equipped with my purple and white striped soccer socks and every layer I could find that wouldn't make it hard for me to walk down the street with some groceries. On the way home I started to slip, and in a comical Three Stooges-type stumbling, crashed onto the ice and contracted the most purple bruises I've ever had. I showed them to everyone to mask how silly I felt for falling. I made a pie and sent a signal out to all who might be interested that if they could brave the storm, they could have some. And then we had the sushi party.

Jim, Andrea, Joe and Matt came over to my humble apartment, where many a good time had already taken place and all of us, bundled in layers even inside because I refused to turn on the baseboard heat, had beer and sushi and good times. This day is one of those that I could keep reliving over and over again and be completely content. The white winter wonderland outside the window, staying warm inside from the happiness emanating from each person, the laughter and the closeness of our circle of friends. Joe, Matt and I were on my white couch, doing a loosely coordinated dance:





Mostly we just all did our own crazy moves and laughed at each other.Then I fell off the couch. Or was pushed, most likely.


Then, as I often do after a couple of beers, challenged the nearest female to a wrestling match. This time it was Andrea. And I lost horribly, as is custom.Joe saw the opportunity to turn my pigtails into a dashing mustache.


This is when Andrea had hair.
And Jim took all the photos.


That winter was one where I would slip-slide down the treacherous hill to my favorite bars to sample the warmth of liquor. And I baked. Pies, cookies, chocolate covered things, rice crispie treats. I enjoyed the fact that the elements outside had limited me to the activities of drinking and baking and that was completely acceptable. But beyond that, I was glad that my home was a place of congregation for laughs, good beers and good times.

If you are reading this (you know who you are, kids), I miss you terribly. I wish we were all in Bellingham right now braving the first snow of the year with raw fish and wrestling matches. I wish we could all be the way we were that day forever.

I fly home the 20th. What say we have a sushi party at my old place (which my brother now inhabits) and try to recreate that day? Bundle up. Because I'm still not turning up the heat for you hooligans.