Snow Pictures from Your Alabama Village Smiths


Good shot, Montana! Even if it was in the back. Only one rule in snowball fights. No. Rocks. None. Absolutely.


Henry getting ammunition ready for payback.

Dear Folks,

YES! We got snow. It looks like four or five inches. We’ve played in it. Taken pictures in it. Acted like idiots in it. And just generally had a whole bunch of fun.

Now I know the rest of America has snow or sleet right now. And many of you are having to shovel. But, hey. This is the Heart of Dixie. This state borders the Gulf of Mexico. We have to keep a weather eye out for snow sign. And weathermen can get tarred and feathered if they promise it to us and we don’t get any. Lately, they’ve gotten it wrong so often they’ve started hedging their bets by reporting “The computer shows . . . ”

On the other hand, I’ll never forget the Christmas snow storm back in December 1989 when we lived in Charleston, SC. Most of the weathermen predicted snow (that’s back when weathermen were mages rather than computer gurus). But there was this one hold-out. NO SNOW, he said. He wasn’t going along with the crowd. He had his story and he was sticking to it.

The next morning we turned on the news to see a sight I’ve never forgotten. Snow on the beach. A full-size snowman. And that lone weatherman with a baseball bat beating the ever-lovin’ tar out of that poor defenseless pale face. Where is the ASPCS when you need them. ¬†American Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Snowmen.

Also, we bring you “You Might Be A Redneck IF . . .¬†

1. You play in the snow in your pajamas with a coat and hat and scarf over them.


2. You take pictures in the snow in two pairs of pants with your bright aqua-blue colored house coat over them and a waist-length hooded wool coat over all that. (Me. Your haute couture host). Sorry. No photo. I’m the one behind the camera.

3. Your galoshes are gallon-sized ziplock baggies. The socks almost but not quite match the robe. (Me. Your chic Alabama Girl host). For pointers, write to me in care of Redneck Girl’s Frivolous Fashions, P.O Box 0000, Space Cadet, Alpha Centauri.


Anyway. Here’s our beautiful snow pictures. We treasure them and the memories.


Our driveway, Bradford pear trees, and stone bench. Looks cold. Looks different.


Our mailbox looks cold and lonely. The snow came down in big flakes at times. It snowed off and on all day.


Henry, Montana, and Tammy. My daughter-in-law is the only one really dressed for snow play. She and Montana later did snow angels but by that time my camera was wet and Mike had to take it inside. Bummer.


Daughter Michelle is in the background seen through a veil of snow. Tammy is just ducking. She did a lot of that.




Kablooey!! Bulls eye!! Or Tammy’s eye.


Papa Bear. My Mike.


Okay. What did you lose, Tammy? Or maybe she’s just laughing so hard she can’t stand up. That happened, too.


Michelle has to make a snowball very carefully. Her right hand is still stiff and she’s going through physical therapy.


Almost upsy-daisy, Michelle.


Doesn’t Michelle look like she’s got some real mischief on her mind?


Henry in football stance mode with a snowball.



I’m gettin’ me a snowball, too. Watch out, you kids!


The strange-looking metal thing in the woods by Henry is a bear cage. It’s been there longer than anybody’s local memory. We love it. Especially at Halloween.


Papa Bear had fun.

We all had fun. Hope you folks did, too. Bye for now. Stay warm and cozy.

Your friend,