Tag Archives: snow


Houston came to a halt last week. It snowed. Not only did it snow earlier than it ever has, and we seldom get snow, but it snowed all day. Amazing. Children ran out of schoolrooms, and teachers ran with them. People walked outside of offices. There was glee and excitement everywhere. Our airports had to delay flights. I doubt they own a de-icer. A friend of mine coming in from Minnesota, where winter is ice and snow, had her plane delayed for our weather. She came in late, looked around, and said, What snow? Of course, by then, it had melted. Her amusement at our delight and confusion–the news people warning us to stay indoors because of the freezing and icy streets, evening events cancelled–doesn’t bother me. It was a magical day, the swirling flakes of snow kissing my face and Houston’s. My grandchildren were beside themselves with elaborate plans involving gloves and snowballs. We were all children for a day, from overexcited weather forecasters to the man or woman in the streets. Delighted children. And it was great.

(Photo courtesy of Ann Bradford. Sculpture by artist Mark Bradford)


Snow on Wednesday

Christmas sights this week:

6 members of the Salvation Army choir singing their hearts out at the entrance to Walgreen’s, their voices carrying through the air to my car as I drive by…..santa

Great Christmas lights in River Oaks where enormous oaks dangle long strands of light from limb to ground…..

Snow, last snow 2004, next snow who knows, snow on Wednesday evening, swirling down fast enough to stick. I have to take a walk in it, stand under street lights where I can see it best. Its beauty shakes my heart. Who knows when I’ll see it again. And sure enough, by the next afternoon, it’s almost temperate. Houston in winter….

Out to Mom’s to make empanadillas, Puerto Rican meat pies, once a family tradition. We’ve upgraded. My daughter found a meat pie dough, already cut in circles. Still, it’s a lot of work, cooking pork, the smell of onion, garlic, capers, everywhere, adding a little olive, a bit of hard-boiled egg in the filling. Mom dozes in a rocking chair as we fold and fry. The meat pies are good, but not as good as memory. Isn’t that true about everything…?