This is the story of the Great Nor’easter of aught-eight. Why, back then we used to make a little thing we called “snowladies.” Snowladies were fine entertainment back then, if you couldn’t get to a taffy-pull or whatnot. This here is the tale of the birth, death, and zombie rebirth of our’n.
Snowlady in progress. Doesn’t she look kind of like that big Rodin statue of Balzac in the MoMA?
I am relatively certain that this is only snowlady construction here, not a dirty joke.
She turned out pretty much the best snowperson I’ve ever made. There was, first of all, just so much snow. It snowed and snowed and snowed and snowed, and we were kind of the only people outside, so no one else was there to steal it from us or muck it up with sleds or anything. (It wasn’t even that late – I think we were building from like 8 to midnight, or so.) And also, I suspect the snowplow guys were watching out for us. A couple of them honked and waved, and once or twice we were pretty sure one of them was going to turn down our street and mess up our supply, but then they didn’t. They turned in the other direction. I think it was on purpose. Like, everybody was feelin’ the spirit, or whatever. She looks especially tall because we built her on sort of a ledge up from the sidewalk, but even minus the ledge, she’s probably four or five feet tall.
While we were building her, we were referring to her as Simone de Snowvoir, but once we finished her, she was so magical and lovely and loved by snowplowmen and everyone that we decided to name her the Venus de Providence.
Awwwww. Who could ever harm a face like that???
WELL, SOME ASSHOLE COULD, I CAN ASSURE YOU.
This was what she looked like by the time we woke up! We strongly suspect the little horror-children from next door. They’re like six or so, and pretty much the only children in the neighborhood. It could have been college kids, of course, but we don’t think so. First, because of that re-made face there in the belly, at about child-height. That kind of looks like the kind of face a little kid would make, right? And second, because there was at least one long gouge in the side of the body, as if it had been hit with a bat or stick. There is a big fat fucking pipe laying in the neighbor’s yard, next to a shovel, as though their father was out shoveling their driveway and they got bored and were fucking around unsupervised, ruining things. And third, because the boobs hadn’t been vandalized at all. I think a drunken college student would have vandalized the boobs first.
So. It was still snowing. We had the technology. We rebuilt her.
But she came back…wrong.
The Venus de Providence is no more! Long live the SnowDemon of Providence!
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