I’ve already invented a holiday, although I don’t really celebrate it any more, because as I’ve gotten older, it’s become harder to get anyone to buy into it. Also, some years I don’t get to celebrate it at all, or not until late, for reasons you will see in a bit.
My holiday is called First Snow. And it’s exactly what it sounds like — it celebrates the first substantial snow of the season. That’s defined as enough snowfall that the grass is mostly obscured and it will still be there in the morning. Flurries aren’t enough if they don’t cover the ground.
To celebrate it, one must have snow. The celebrants can do this either indoors with a bowl of snow or outdoors. When I was younger and more durable, my friends and I would sit outside in the snow.
One must also have a mug of something to drink. This has varied over the years from hot chocolate to blackberry brandy. The idea is to pass around the mug and drink toasts, and the first toast is always “To the snow”. As the toasts go on, it’s harder to find things to drink toasts to, and that’s part of the point, to get creative with the toasts. When the mug is empty, it’s refilled until the participants run out of toasts. The last swallow of each mug is emptied into the ground. The idea is not to get drunk, so generally alcoholic first snows don’t last as long.
Like I said, I don’t celebrate this anymore. As an older adult, I have grown impatient with the need to figure out whether there’s enough snow, and too shy to ask others to inconvenience themselves on a busy evening. It’s an ill-advised holiday when one is no longer a student with the semi-communal life of unmarried friends. But while it lasted, it was a bonding experience with my friends.
Words Like Me 