Snow seems to bring out the frolic in us

As anti-winter as I am, I woke up Thursday morning surprisingly giddy about the half-inch of wet snow that had accumulated.

Maybe it was because, for the first time in years, I experienced a "brown" Northwestern Pennsylvania Christmas instead of the more traditional "White Christmas."

Or maybe it was because the overall lack of snow in the sunny South has made me appreciate what I once dreaded.

Growing up in Pennsylvania, specifically Erie, which is known for its lake-effect snows, one becomes accustomed to trekking through knee-high snow drifts, routinely brushing and scraping the car, shoveling and spreading salt on the driveway and sidewalks and layering up in double socks and shirts.

This year, the normally mud/snow-covered area has had an unusually mild winter. During my weekend trip home for Christmas, there were a few flakes of snow but no accumulation. I must admit, I was greatly disappointed to wake up on Christmas morning and see the grass and pavement outside. (Although it made the drive back to South Carolina on Christmas day much easier, despite the rain.)

So, for whatever reason when I woke up Thursday it was as if I was a child again. I couldn't contain my excitement as I jumped around the house and played with my dogs who seemed to sense the change in weather before we even went outside.

My dog, Steeler, has never experienced the snow. Being the male dog, he always leads my other dog, Chief, to the yard. Normally as I open the door, he bolts outside. Today, though, he paused as if he was confused when he saw the sun glistening off the white snow in the yard.

The hesitation didn't last long, and we were outside exploring the new ground cover. Both dogs couldn't get enough of the snow and neither could I. You could hear children laughing and playing nearby as I watched as the dogs dug their noses into the cold snow.

We frolicked. When was the last time you frolicked? You should do it again soon!

They jumped and ran and ate the snow. They tried to catch the half-packed snow balls I threw at them. I think they would have stayed out there for hours, but it didn't take much of the cold weather to remind me of what I don't like about the winter.

After the dogs and I got our early-morning snow fix, I got dressed and bundled up and went searching for sledders for art for The Ledger.

I didn't have to go far to find William Echevarria, his daughter Brianna, and her friend Erica Leviner, sledding down a hill at Park Place.

On the other end of the hill was another family. They had brought their dog out to play as well.

Watching them laugh as they flew down the icy, snowy hill brought back memories of sledding for me as well.

We had our hill that we loved to go sledding down as kids. Every year, the sledders formed a big ramp of snow to fly off of as you careen down the hill. Somehow we always managed to avoid serious injuries, but looking back I just don't know how that was possible.

There was a road near a friend's house that was closed every winter because it was too steep to be maintained for traffic. I didn't get the opportunity to sled there often, but when I did it was great. I remember ending up in the ditch a few times, though.

That trip back up that gigantic hill was always a killer though, especially with the extra layers of clothing to keep you warm. But the thrill of the trip down made the jaunt back up bearable.

And still to this day, there is nothing better on a cold winter's day than my grandfather's hot chocolate.