I am taking my lunch break. I sit here at the computer eating my buttered egg noodles and I look eastward out my classroom window. What is it about a blustery, snowy day that makes me nostalgic?
I just had a flash of memory of living in CA and coming to Utah to visit family during the Winter. My little boys had matching purple and black coats, and I would bundle them up for their rare visits with the white stuff. They would usually just stand in it and look at me like they were asking, "What now, Mommy?" It was obviously foreign.
Or the time I was sliding on the ice when I was about 13 and a friend said he would kiss me if he caught me, so I put the gas on. A few strides later I fell on a board that had frozen in the pond. Two nails sticking out. 15 stitches needed. But I must admit that he was very gallant as we waited for my dad-hero to come get me and take me to the hospital.
Nothing deeper than these memories. Oh, and a melancholy sigh. And now back to work.