Cold, wet and a bloody nightmare to cycle in it may be, but at least the snow is a small break from the monotony, a novel interuption, a change of scenery as it were. Today, work has been amusing as from my window all day I've watched Leicester's university students playing in the snow. Okay they are a little old for snowmen but do you ever grow out of throwing a snowball or two? I do hope not.
Glad to be indoors, I watched as small frays turned into allout snowballing wars. And when one hit my window at a great force it took me straight back to my secondary school days. I went to an all girls school but we had a boys school next door and although most of our schooling hours were timed so that we never came into contact, there was a half hour at lunch that would overlap. If we had snow, the boys, who were not allowed to linger on our playing fields would line up along the boundary fence and begin the bombardment. The girls would immediately spread the word, rounding up an army of navy blue and white (our school colours.) We were winning in numbers, but their was only one problem, girls can not throw. To muster up enough force to get the damn things over the fence we had to get dangerously close. I can still remember all too clearly the pain from the impact of a full force top speed ball of ice. I remember thinking in a typically girlish manner 'why can't they just play nicely' and the anger rising as I received more and more blows to the head (they would always aim for the head.) With only one decent thrower, we were well and truely done for, but we wouldn't give in. The boys laughed as our snowballs fell short of their targets again and again. Frustrated, cold, battered and down hearted we went on until we heard the bell. Thank goodness, we could excuse ourselves without loosing face.
It's time for me to go home and I have a plan. I'm going to lie in wait for Michael. I'm going to arm myself with ready made snowballs and begin the war again. I know it's a loosing battle, I know it'll end in (my) tears but you never grow out of snowball fights do you?
posted by Moonpie at 4:26 PM
5 Comments:
Hi Moonpie,
Snowball throwing here is de rigueur in the winter, but not during the day when teachers are watching. The most dangerous things kids do here is lob them at passing cars- not great when the driver gets a frontal whack.
If you were a Canadian girl, you'd know how to throw- all the baseball you'd be playing in the spring and summer would give you a wicked arm.
Enjoy the fluffies! Ours is just ice now.
9:01 PM
Hi Anne-Marie,
Maybe I should change that to English girls can't throw. I suspect that things may be a little more fairer these days but when I was at school it was always hockey and netball for the girls.
I just watched the thriller wedding video on your site, what an excellent idea,and what a funny choice of song!
I have always wished that one day ordinary, everyday life would turn into a musical dance routine. Like say you're sat on a bus and suddenly somebody starts singing then everyone joins in with a sychronized dance and everyone knows the words. Think I watched to many MGM musicals as
a kid but wouldn't it be great!
8:30 AM
Moonpie, how you have learned. The ambush: That is how to wield oneupmanship. I see a flaw though, maybe a serious one. I am guessing Mick reads your blog.
Enjoyed the school memories, a lovely story - cold setting, warm-hearted. Boys will do anything to impress, the bloody peacocks!
As for that real musical? Let me have a go, ahem,
*whistles*
"Were going where the sun shines brightly.
Were going where the sea-e is blue.
We've seen it in the movies.
Now let’s see if its true."
*walks off, doing that chirpy heel-clicking thing*
11:29 PM
Well now, hmm. Girls can throw. Or, women can throw a pitch. Bea Bea bolts for what she believes is a new white ball. Gone she springs to return breathless and fuming. I tricked her again! Yet, I'm sure she knows, I do this--trick of snowball for ball--because I love her.
And so the boys, they loved the flurry of navy blue and white.
And no, we never outgrow the urge to involve ourselves in a snowball fight. If only Bea Bea could throw! ;-)
Happy snow days!
-ginab
4:26 AM
Hi Paul,
As a child I would always, without fail, sing that one on the way to the seaside until everyone was absolutely sick of it, I'd then result to the 'are we nearly there yet' every couple of minutes.
Loved the chirpy heel-clicking!
Hello Gina,
Arh, I love tricking dogs, I love the way every time you make the action of throwing a stick they run after it, they never learn no matter how many times you hide it behind your back!
I bet Bea Bea wishes she could throw too, so do I for that matter!
5:02 PM
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