Snow Squid!
Today my friend Kayleigh asked if Moss and I wanted to come help her and her fiancé build a snowman over by the pond. Moss and I had errands to run and work to do, but also snowman!
We arrived to find Kayleigh and Greg amassing a big snow mound with no real artistic direction.
"What's the plan?" we asked.
"Um, get a bunch of snow together, then figure something out," Greg said.
We started scooping.
I figured we'd just make a classic snowman (though I had brought along a pair of cat ears just in case we wanted to make it a snow anime catgirl), but I was so wrong! A couple walked by. Not a young couple, a somewhat older couple. Not too old (did you know they're saying middle age goes to 85 these days?), but old enough to be our parents, I think. Anyway, the woman said, "You're not making a man are you?" As if making a snowman was the absolutely most boring overdone thing ever.
"We're making a snowman," I said.
"But not a man. You're going to make something else, a dog or something at least, right?" the woman asked.
"We don't really know yet," said Greg.
"Right now we're still piling snow together," said Moss.
"It'll be a snow something, though," I said.
The woman nodded. "A snow something. All right."
Then the couple walked away, and I brought out the cat ears, and we decided to build not a snow anime catgirl, but a proper snow cat. Kayleigh started making a tail, Moss and Greg started trying to sculpt the head, and I began working on the legs. Only, it didn't really look very good.
"These legs look like tentacles," I said.
"We could make a snow squid," said Kayleigh.
"It does look more like a squid than a cat," said Greg.
And that is the story of how we came to make a snow squid. Behold:
And then Moss and I went to a coffee shop to write and program and I finished a story draft. Best. Day. Evar. (Well, one of them.)
Also, a block away from our squid, someone made a giant snow dog. Sweet!
"Do you think they dyed the tongue with real blood?" Greg asked.
Yes. The blood of a thousand Kool Aid Men.
We arrived to find Kayleigh and Greg amassing a big snow mound with no real artistic direction.
"What's the plan?" we asked.
"Um, get a bunch of snow together, then figure something out," Greg said.
We started scooping.
I figured we'd just make a classic snowman (though I had brought along a pair of cat ears just in case we wanted to make it a snow anime catgirl), but I was so wrong! A couple walked by. Not a young couple, a somewhat older couple. Not too old (did you know they're saying middle age goes to 85 these days?), but old enough to be our parents, I think. Anyway, the woman said, "You're not making a man are you?" As if making a snowman was the absolutely most boring overdone thing ever.
"We're making a snowman," I said.
"But not a man. You're going to make something else, a dog or something at least, right?" the woman asked.
"We don't really know yet," said Greg.
"Right now we're still piling snow together," said Moss.
"It'll be a snow something, though," I said.
The woman nodded. "A snow something. All right."
Then the couple walked away, and I brought out the cat ears, and we decided to build not a snow anime catgirl, but a proper snow cat. Kayleigh started making a tail, Moss and Greg started trying to sculpt the head, and I began working on the legs. Only, it didn't really look very good.
"These legs look like tentacles," I said.
"We could make a snow squid," said Kayleigh.
"It does look more like a squid than a cat," said Greg.
And that is the story of how we came to make a snow squid. Behold:
And then Moss and I went to a coffee shop to write and program and I finished a story draft. Best. Day. Evar. (Well, one of them.)
Also, a block away from our squid, someone made a giant snow dog. Sweet!
"Do you think they dyed the tongue with real blood?" Greg asked.
Yes. The blood of a thousand Kool Aid Men.