By now I know where to find them.
The snow has gone (and I am not that sorry about ist), this year it seemed to me the longest winter we ever had. Though I know that we still are in February, and anything can happen.
Though I love winter. My birthday at the 29th of December.
I have very early memories of winter:
when my sister was born - she is three years younger than I - my parents brought me to a village nearby to enable my mother to recover from birth - it turned out as not such a bright idea, as I didn't know the people where I should stay.
I was crying and yelling all of the time, and at last, to appease me, they went out and fetched some snow in a tin, and I see still the moon standing in the sky, feel the cold and the smell of snow - and they put it on a red glowing old stove and I watched the drops dancing on the iron rings on the stove and heard the hissing of the melting snow.
When it stopped I started crying again.
I had stamina.
More than the grown-ups.
Finally, in sheer exasperation, one of the grown-ups brought me back to my parents, with the very last bus.
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