Watching the snowflakes fall under the lights at night (like my old poppa did)

Last night as the snow gently fell, I flipped on the patio light and watched the flakes fall.

Oh what a peaceful sight. Oh what memories.

As a kid growing up, my grandparents lived next door.

My bedroom was at the end of the house that looked over the garden and down to my grandparent's house. Theirs was not a big house, especially considering they raised six rambunctious kids in it! Nana even gave birth in that house!

My grandparent's "living" room - a room where they really did live, faced my bedroom. That "living" room acted as their dining room, their card playing room, their visiting room, and their tv room.

It was also my "sitting in my poppa's lap" room. If we weren't out in the garden together, I was in his lap in that chair.

Poppa's chair looked right out the the window, so he could watch the happenings of School Street when he finally had the chance to sit down. I don't recall my Nana even having a chair, because I am pretty sure she never got the chance to sit down.

On nights that snow fell, Poppa would flip on his spot light and sit and watch the flakes fall. As I lay in bed, I would see that light suddenly glow, and I would hop up to look out my window and watch those same flakes fall. How much would fall? Would school be canceled? (It seems that school was hardly ever canceled way back then).  Could we go sledding or make a snowman? Shoveling? Hot chocolate? The questions and possibilities were endless.

And so, it was a pleasure to watch the flakes fall last night under the patio light and think of watching those same flakes with my poppa all those years ago.

I am a Putnamaniac that still enjoys watching the snow fall with Poppa Moone!

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