There was snow in Seattle this last week, which actually stuck around for a few days. As I was flying back from Boston, the plane was full of people talking about it. The city seems full of people who are from or have lived places where there is snow, and they therefore know how to drive on it, and deal with it, yet somehow there remain people around who have no idea, and cause accidents. Going home from the airport, Seattle seemed to have collectively put on a hat and stuck its hands in its pockets, so I did the same. There was another little evening of snow, then it’s all melted away. This is all commentary leading up to a Shel Silverstein poem I ran across on Wondering Minstrels.

Snowball

I made myself a snowball
As perfect as could be.
I thought I’d keep it as a pet
And let it sleep with me.
I made it some pajamas
And a pillow for its head.
Then last night it ran away,
But first it wet the bed.