#not fair that my birthday is in march and i was born during a blizzard that should be illegal

[murderballadeer]

i always forget how miserable montreal is in winter until i talk to someone who's living in like. toronto. which isn't even that far. and they're like yeah there's barely any snow left here

[0hcicero]

If you've ever had snow where you live, do you have any good memories of enjoying it? Like snowfights or hot cocoa, etc

I love snow, and I have so many good memories of it. I was born during a massive blizzard, and every year for my birthday, I wish make three wishes - just to the universe - just in case - and one is always for snow. Usually, I get at least that wish! In 2008, I wished to not have to go to class, I wished for Obama to get elected, and I wished for snow, and my university had a pipe burst, so class was cancelled, my best friend and I hung out and watched movies between checking in on the election, and while it snowed this big white flakes, we danced around her living room in happiness when we learned the news!

As a Canadian, snow is definitely a part of us, culturally - I honestly can’t imagine someone *not* having good memories of snow! When I was a kid, there was a neighbour who had the best snow hill, and also a skating pond, and my brothers and I used to go there so often. They put out inner tubes and carved moguls into it, and we used to try to make these inner tube sled tanks, just to see if we could! My little brother was often the guinea pig for these little sled experiments - I remember one year, we built this massive one, and then sent him down the side of the hill with the moguls, and it was just a cartoonish moment - rubber inner-tubes flying in all directions, this young kid wilhelm screaming down a hill, while my older brother and I tore after him to make sure he was alright, but also laughing the whole way!

I would spend hours skating on the pond, me and my best friend Jon (and conveniently, my childhood crush) would go and just skate around and talk and be, and it was one of the few places I felt graceful. It’s been years since I’ve skated these days - I can’t seem to find the right fit of skates, and my feet always get way too sore to carry on for more than five minutes. Nothing fits like my brother’s old hockey handmedowns.

Oh man, and hockey! We had a hockey rink at our community Center, but in our nieghbourhood, all us kids just played pick-up street hockey, usually before the bus came. I was generall defense, and I was good! I could deke, slap shot, I such good passing skills, and it was some of the best times with my brothers - cold mornings you could see your breath, icicles forming in your hair from the moisture puffing out, clouded glasses, running after a neon ball in the dark, timing down the last shot perfectly so you could just run to toss the hockey nets in the ditch before the bus rolled up. When we didn’t play hockey, we’d be having a snowball fight, and my aim was great, too! Sometimes we’d begin a snowball fight before the bus rolled up, and then right after school when we got dropped off, we’d carry on again - get down off the bus, grab a handful, toss that sucker at your big brother who pinged you just as you were going on the bus that morning, in front of everyone - payback!

We also used to play this dumb game when the snow would start to melt, like March when it would change its texture and get a crust of ice on top, be able to hold some weight, and crack instead of being soft powder. We called it wrestling, but mainly we pretended to be our favourite wrestlers and then roll around and crack the snow and felt very powerful for 10 year olds.

And then there were soakers in the ditch, when the spring came, and the snow began to melt. The ditch would still be covered in snow, but if you could trick someone to step in it (via snowball fight, hockey, etc) they would get a boot full of sludge Icy water, and have to wear that all day - we were cruel but it was hilarious! And everyone had their fair share of soakers.

We used to have a yearly sleigh ride at Christmas, the whole nieghbourhood was invited - a big sliegh ride with a cookout in the middle, and then back to our place for a pot luck. There were always 2 slieghs, sometimes 3, because half the fun was pushing someone off the first sliegh so they’d have to run and catch the second, and then, when they got pushed off the second, they’d trudge along out of breath until the 3rd came around, or until they got to the fire pit and warmed up with rummy hot chocolate from my pop’s flask, or a hot dog, or a big coffee. The way back was always more subdued, and there is something so good and romantic about being 15 and sitting in the chilly air as the sun is setting, with your side pressed against your crush in the sliegh your parents are not at, occaisionally the both of you stealing distinctly unfriendly glances, and hoping that maybe tonight, if you find a way to get out of the crowd (impossible) you might be able to be alone together, and maybe (it won’t happen), maybe you’ll finally get the nerve to tell him how you feel, or he’ll surprise you, and tell you he cares about you like that too - I mean, the snow is sparkling in the evening light, and the Christmas decorations are glowing, and it’s a magical time of year, isn’t it? But instead you just kind of dance around each other all night, getting pulled this way and that by family.

I have so many good memories of snow. I love snow. I have had so many first kisses under snowy skies, thrown so many snow balls, played so many games, built so many snow forts. Snow is straight nostalgia for me.