Dreaming of Snow

Snow poetry 

There's nothing like a heatwave to make a girl dream of snow and gosh have I been dreaming of it! I’ve only ever seen the real thing a few times, and the first proper-proper time was this year in February in New York. 

Vanessa, hot in the cold 

We were upstate near Ellenville, a few hours from NY city. I’d landed that morning at JFK - one of the coldest days in living memory - and my childhood friend and china bean Vanessa Solomon and her man Tim, and I set off into the snowy foothills of the Catskills. It started snowing as we left the city and by the time we arrived at their cabin, it was - gasp! - proper snow. Vanessa and Tim were very patient as I frolicked around laughing and patting the stuff, licking it, kicking it, patting it, rolling it up, lying in it (not such a good idea). 
We made a fire and cooked food and drank wine (we left the second bottle in the snow by mistake, not such a good idea either) and listened to Frank Zappa on old vinyl records and laughed about the weird old days. 

Toasty house 

Vanessa comes from the farm next to our family farm in Limpopo and will always have a special place in my heart for throwing a glass of cane, lime and lemonade at a racist hotel manager in Tzaneen in the 80's when he asked her to leave because he thought she was a so-called coloured, and this was a net blankes (whites only) hotel, jy weet, you know. She is now a famous sculptor in New York, so make that an extra drink thrown in that stupid oke's face haha. 
That night, fluffy, silent, sexy snow fell and draped everything in tiny crystal poetry and by morning it was thigh high and was the most enchanting thing I had ever seen. 

Fake fur to go 

I was on my way to Hawaii to see Darling - going from NY in deep snow to the balmy beachy Pacific, which presented a few minor wardrobe problems for one small suitcase, but despite my excitement I got the right wardrobe for the snow - fake fur and leather - and Vanessa was in her retro silver cat suit  looking completely hot and not unlike something off an old James Bond movie set.
In the morning I woke up and went walking into this strange snowy landscape, giggling and shivering and falling on my mielie a few times because of the ice. We sent messages of love to Darling on the frozen car window and drank more wine and the world seemed such fun and full of possibility but mainly it was cold! Sigh. 

Snowy message for Darling 

And remember this snippet from Too Darn Hot by Ella Fitzgerald:

“According to the Kinsey Report, ev'ry average man you know
Much prefers his lovey-dovey to court
When the temperature is low
But when the thermometer goes 'way up
And the weather is sizzling hot
Mister, pants for romance is not

'Cause it's too, too, too darn hot
It's too darn hot
It's too, too darn hot”