it’s called snudge

While walking this morning on a gloriously sunny day with great hints of spring delightfully all around, my friend T and I saw 2 girls. We knew, without saying anything, that these were “our” people. They were wearing skirts, simple and tzanua. Not too frumpy, either. But as we approached them, we also both realized that we didn’t know them. They looked like they could be cousins of any number of kids in the community, or guests, but not ours. They informed us that they were visiting someone who lives down the street.  They added that this was the first time they saw snow, since they were from Israel, and they had just been playing in it or walking through it, as it were. Actually they told us about the snow play before they told us who they were.

“This is not snow,” we said.

“Yeah, this is snudge.” Snow-sludge. My newly-minted word of the season that I hadn’t used in conversation yet.

I think it was lost on them.

Their toes were cold.

“Oh, you’ll get used to that.”

But if they’re lucky and they’re only here for a short while, they won’t.

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