It's Christmas morning, and all through the house, not a creature is stirring except for me an a couple of the cats. So, feeling nostalgic about Christmases past, I started to look through an album of old family photos and ran across this one. It's probably not from but it was certainly wintertime. That's me on the right, but I didn't make the snowman. My parents did. I helped, though. I remember that snowman well, and I thought the pipe was an excellent touch. The snowman's pretty small, but I was highly impressed by it. I still am. I don't think I've ever seen a better one in all the years since.
As you can see, there aren't any other houses around. For the first five years or so of my life, we lived a mile or so outside of town. We had chickens, and I loved to look for their eggs. We had a milk cow, and although it's been a long time, I think I could still walk right outside and milk a cow if I had to. I doubt that I'll ever help build another snowman, though.