Getting Used To Snowflake

“Mom! Mom! Can we go to a rodeo Saturday?”

I smiled as Krissi climbed into the car. We'd only lived in Snowflake for a week, but apparently the country atmosphere was already rubbing off onto my girls.

“A real bull-rider came to our school today, and he gave us free tickets to the rodeo,” Krissi quickly explained. “It's on Saturday. Can we go?”

“I guess, if you really want to,” I told her. “But I didn't know you liked cowboy stuff.”

“I don't. But the tickets are free, and all the other kids want to go.”

Living in Snowflake sure was an adventure. It seemed that every day I discovered another reason for being glad we had moved there. I loved the trees, green grass, and flowers. I loved the hills and contoured landscape. I loved the quaint old homes in the old part of town, and our modern, new rental house. I loved the smell of smoke in the air on crisp mornings when I went for a walk, and the balmy sunshine in the afternoons, so different from the hot desert.

One afternoon I popped into the local bank to open a checking account. I happened to look out the window next to the service desk, and had to catch my breath. Right there, outside the window, was rocky hill, just like at our cabin, and I lived here!

The rodeo turned out to be lots of fun, even though Krissi only had one free ticket, so we had to pay for Kami and I. Kami loved watching the horses, Krissi enjoyed the clowns, and we all tried to count how long the cowboys stayed on their bulls. Most of all, I enjoyed watching the people in their western finery. There was only one thing wrong with the day; it was cold!

I couldn't believe it. It was only the middle of October. We'd spent the week before sweating on the beach at Rocky Point, and down in the Valley it was still over 100 degrees every day, but up here in the mountains was a different story. Part of the problem was the girls and I were wearing cool, summer shirts and shorts. If we'd worn western jeans and shirts like everyone else it wouldn't have been so bad. The biggest problem, though, was the wind. Combined with the cool temperatures, it cut through us like ice.

I made myself a new rule that day: always keep blankets in the trunk of my car as long as I live in Snowflake. I can't tell you how many times I have been grateful for them in the last six years!