It promised to be a lovely morning: after a day of snow, the forecast was for cloudless skies Saturday morning. I opened my eyes and realized I had to get outside with camera and tripod as fast as possible.

But it was hardly any fun alone. Since we finally had snow, K and I were both eager to get the Girl out into it.

Once outside, L was keen on imitating K and me: in short, she began cleaning. First, seeing us knocking the snow off the car with a broom, she needed to help. But weightier obligations awaited her in the back.

The deck.

When we had a snow an ice day, L enjoyed knocking the ice off the banisters and deck chairs, and she was eager to get to work. In the course of a few minutes, she’d just about knocked off all the ice.

Yesterday, she applied her expertise to snow. She banged it a few times as experience had taught with the ice, then knocked it off.

If only we could keep this urge to clean in imitation going for another fifteen years or so.

As it was, the cleaning bug lasted only a few more minutes. She knocked some snow off trees and shrubs, then headed to the front.

The great sadness was that the snow was too dry to make even a small snowball, let alone a snowman.

Still, snow angels seemed doable.

“Watch and learn,” I told the Girl, then gingerly lowered myself onto the ground. I’d forgotten how quickly the snow invades shoes, sneaks up jackets and settles into just about every article of clothing.

L took a more direct route, and with a flop was wallowing in the snow.

She didn’t mind the snow working its way down her boots, up her jacket, around her neck: by the time we forced her back inside, she was covered with it.