Our Love Story: Let it Snow

One of the things that my previous not-so-great boyfriend left me with was an extreme passion for skiing. His dad had been a ski instructor, and we’d logged a lot of time on the slopes the previous year. I loved skiing so much that during the fall of my senior year in high school, I bought a season pass to our local ski area. Before John and I met, I’d already hit the slopes half a dozen times. And very soon after we began talking, I was delighted to discover that he was a skier as well.

And so over Christmas break and on into January and February, we skied. And skied. And skied.

John would pick me up very early in the morning — it seems like sometimes it was still dark. (Or that may have been the Mondays when we went night skiing.) We’d load my skis into the little green car along with his, and take off. He’d bring a thermos of crazy-strong, crazy-sweet hot chocolate to drink when we started to get cold, and we’d both pack a lunch. At the bottom of the mountain, John would park the car and we’d take the ski bus up the winding road to the top. Our area suffers from air inversions in the winter, with hazy air gathering in the valleys. But on the mountain the sun always shone.

John may have fallen in love with me as he watched me during math class. But I fell in love on those ski lifts. After the initial lift-line scurry to get ourselves situated and plumph down onto the seats at the proper moment, we’d settle ourselves back into the seat, and lift off into the sky. It was our own little world. I remember the smell of his Aqua Velva and the smooth profile of his cheek and the red leather of his gloves, and the way he’d look over at me and grin, like I was better to look at than the mountains.

I am reasonably certain that our first hand-holding involved me (ever the schemer) complaining about frozen fingers, and may even have resulted in one of my gloves falling off the chair lift to the ground far below. (Note to self: never remove gloves on a ski lift, even if an exceptionally cute young man is offering to warm your fingers.)

All too soon, the nearing-the-top anticipation would tear our attention away and require us to grip our poles and lift up our ski tips and shimmy forward on the seat and (hopefully) glide gracefully away from the chairlift. (Though I do remember one time that John got a little distracted– how could that have been?– and thrashed his way off the lift while I hastily skied out of the range of his flailing limbs.)

But that bubble of time sitting next to each other in between ski runs was pure magic. We talked and talked, and looked and laughed, and I fell in love. And always there was another run and another ride and another day to ski.

I went skiing 27 days that winter, and John skiied 18. Our first kiss was in the back seat of a half-empty ski bus on the way down the mountain at the end of a day of skiing. John was ever the proper sort; once back at school he would barely peck me on the cheek in the hall between classes, even when we’d been dating for months. But the ski bus…well, that was different.

In between ski trips we talked on the phone and went out for ice cream and and did homework together in his parents’ basement, and talked on the phone some more. I vividly remember the first time we talked, hesitantly at first, and then more certainly, about a future together. It was February, and I was sitting in the corner of the dining room, as close to privacy as I could get while tethered to the telephone by its spiral leash.

We’d been dating for two months.

I was 17.

He was 18.

And we were already dreaming a future together.


John’s got his side of the story– with pictures!– over at Duct Tape and Baling Twine. If you are sharing your story, please leave an exact link in comments, below.


  1. I know what that feels like. 🙂 thought not so young.

    So here’s my second installment the first uh date?

  2. Oh my, is that ever romantic.

    I’m back on track. Here’s my next installment:

  3. Love it,
    you tell it so well.
    Heather BT

  4. I know that my son and his girl friend dream of a life together. Whether it will happen or not——his 18th birthday is today. His girlfriend turned 18 about 3 weeks ago. And they celebrated their 1 year anniversary this week!

    They are so sweet together. They even look alike with my son being 1/4 black with a lovely tan skin and black hair. And his girlfriend being 1/2 Mexican. Her black hair has a little wave in it whereas his is straight as a stick.

    I think it’s great—but so different from my life. I spent several years living in Ethiopia and Taiwan before I settled down and got married at 31!!!!

  5. This is so sweet! I love reading these stories. :o) My dh and I were high-school sweethearts, too.

  6. I really enjoyed this part. It was magical and sweet.
    And if only all teenagers and such could be tethered to the dining room during phone conversations. 🙂

  7. Wonderful post! This is my favorite post yet in your story. You tell it so well.

    Here’s the next chapter of mine:


  8. I confess to really enjoying your love story! And I should tell you, I almost NEVER read love stories. I am a mystery book reader as a general rule. 🙂

  9. How sweet. You make me want to grab my hubby and go find a half-empty ski bus!

  10. Thanks for visiting my story at my blog, Mary!

    And I love the “Amblin Man” idea! I think that just may be it!

  11. Awesome post. That was absolutely how it was. So hard to express all that was going on with us but you nailed that one. That’s just how it was. I love you!

  12. It keeps getting better and better! However I don’t know how anyone could fall in love in the cold – all I would think about is the next time I would get inside!

  13. I posted part 4!

  14. http://shelfie.blogspot.com/2008/10/love-story-part-4.html

    Here’s my 4th. I love your story! What a fun time skiing together!

  15. Aw! Skiing sounds fun, but man! I’m terrified….freaky scared of going up the mountain and coming down on two sticks. Yikes!

    DH tried to get me to ski… ha, what a joke! I’m not a snow bunny!

  16. OK, I’ve distilled the memories enough, time for libations of love! Heh, heh ,heh, gotta be original….
    1st one is: Alouette (I warn you the whole story starts out in a surprising way…..don’t be too shocked, OK?) http://thislittlemamastayedhome.blogspot.com/2008/10/alouette.html
    Next comes: http://thislittlemamastayedhome.blogspot.com/2008/10/and-love-returns.html
    If I had any way of knowing how to make those links instead of garbled html strings, I would……I’m dense about that.

  17. I feel like I’m reading a romance novel. I’m always glued to my seat for the next installment!!!

  18. Wow, your story is getting good!! 😉

    My fifth installment is here:


  19. Well, for the love of Pete!! Could your husband be any more adorable?? How darling is his comment? You guys are simply too sweet! That’s all there is to it.

    In Awe,
    Heather in CA

  20. So sweet!! I’m loving the love story posts. [:-)


  21. Mary, your story is getting GOOD!!

    My fifth installment (with a link to the fourth, too) is here:


  22. I can just imagine it: the crisp air, the smiles, trying not to fall as you exit the ski-life. You paint a picture with your words. Maybe it helps that I went ski-ing with a boyfriend. Oh, gotta absolutely LOVE those inversions with the sun shining above the clouds. Can I go to the mountains now?

  23. pitty pat! pitty pat!!

    Love it.

  24. I’m late in joining the fun but here’s my first post-


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