IV. Family fun
IV. Family fun
As told by Milo
The snow crushed under our pawsteps as we left the house. It was cold outside, but not uncomfortably so as long as one kept moving. As Nina and I both crafted ourselves a snowball to start out with, my suspicion grew. She had probably planned this as an excuse to be in her puppy mindset with me.
Since I had basically nothing to lose, I decided her idea was probably even a good one and tried my best to follow her lead. During the following hour, we rolled our respective snowballs through the fresh snow, creating two rather big balls.
Eventually, both snowballs became so large that it required quite the effort to move them around. It then started to dawn on me that even the smaller ball was probably too heavy for the two of us to lift, therefore creating a problem.
Nina came standing beside me in the front yard, putting her smaller snowball next to mine. From the expression on her face, I estimated that she was asking herself the same question as I did. My train of thought derailed, however, when Nina was suddenly hit in her back by a flying snowball.
We both turned around and faced a male Mountain Dog that was only a little shorter than Nina, dressed up similar to me and her. He carried an unusually shaped hard plastic case on his back. I initially wanted to retaliate, but Nina, observant as she was, noticed my intention and held me back.
"Is that all you got, Steffen?"
"Not even close. However, since there's two of you and only one of me, I'll let it slide for this time."
Nina approached her sibling and hugged him briefly.
"I assume you know this guy, princess?" I asked.
"Of course I do, silly. This is my brother," Nina said with feigned mockery.
"That would make you Milo, right?" Steffen asked.
"Yush, that's me."
"Wait, why did I even doubt that?" he said quasi-seriously, "It's not like there is another dog of your species within a fifty mile radius, right?"
"Nah, I don't think there is," I countered, "We once fled from a pack of Mountain Dogs with poor humor."
Luckily, both Nina and Steffen appreciated the joke and laughed heartily about it.
"On a side note, it's good that you finally decided to show up, Steffen,"
"Why is that, sis?"
"Well, we were trying to build a snowman, but the snowball is too heavy for the two of us to lift. Care to help us out?"
"Sure thing," he replied, "but let me put my violin away first. I'll be right back."
As Steffen went inside to do as he announced, Nina and I decided to create a third snowball to use as a head. Just as we were fully immersed in our pursuits again, the Mountain Dog showed up behind us.
"Do I need to hit you with another snowball?" he smirked.
"Very funny," Nina said, rolling her eyes, "Come on, make yourself useful."
With combined efforts, we were finally able to put the medium-sized snowball on the larger one, although we only barely made it. To finish the heavy work, Nina put the smallest snowball on top, creating a nice stack.
We then proceeded to mould the snowman, adding some snow in one place whilst removing some in other places. Eventually, the three of us managed to create a nice sculpture of a bear. Nina stated that most people made a bear, since that eliminated the tricky process of having to craft a tail for the sculpture, something that more often than not went wrong or failed to stay attached to the body.
Sunset was upon us when we were finally finished, but since Midwinter was the shortest day, that actually meant that it was somewhere past four in the afternoon. As if she had anticipated it, Nina's mother came out with a camera and took a few pictures of our sculpture.
When she was satisfied, she invited us to drink some hot chocolate inside. This was of course a very tempting invitation, as we had spent quite the time in the cold and longed for something to warm us up. Enjoying my hot chocolate, I listened to the stories the Mountain Dogs told each other to catch up on what they had missed.
Of course, most of what Nina said was not new to me, but that did not bother me. Steffen told us about the courses he had attended in the past two weeks, from which I learned that he attended a conservatory rather than college or a university. It also explained the violin case he carried earlier.
As the conversation continued, Lindya eventually took the floor and told some anecdotes on what she and her husband had done while her pups were off to study. When she was done, she asked us to lay the table for dinner, so she could focus on the finishing touch.
Gregory joined his wife in the kitchen and helped her move the food to the dining table in the living room. Together with Nina and Steffen, I waited at the dining table, in anticipation of the food. My nose told me that whatever Lindya had cooked was going to be really tasty.
It was a feast like I had never experienced before. My grandmother was a fair cook, but she could not match the taste of the Phillips family traditional meat stew. Together with a fruit salad and some other small side dishes, there were all kinds of flavors to caress our tongues with.
During the entire meal, I made only a minor contribution to the communal conversation. As far as I know, nobody really noticed it, or they were too polite to comment on it. I, for one, did not care. In my head, I was too busy trying not to think of the last Midwinter I spent with my parents.