HAT? Check. Scarf? Check. Two twigs? Check. Carrot? Check. Two bits of coal? Check.
In my day (cue Hovis theme tune) you were then ready to build a snowman.
You’d make your ball, roll it round the grass, bent almost double in a position that would give a chiropractor fits.
After some time, normally your hands are numb by this point, the ball would have grown so much that it had attracted all manner of debris (crisp packets, stones, twigs, next door’s cat) into it’s snowy gravitational pull and it was time to start work on ball two.
Same again, but this ball was a lot smaller. Mainly so that you could lift it - every small child has wondered how snow got so heavy in that dreadful moment when your too-heavy freezing sphere fell and ‘crumped’ on the ground at your feet.
You’ve now got your head on the body and are ‘dressing’ your snowman.
Fully attired you stand back and admire your handiwork.
What a cracker.
That used to be enough to guarantee a horde of admiring comments from passers-by.
Not now, it seems that a snowman is passe - this week we’ve seen a snow sphinx, snow alien, snow car and snowdog.
It’s a shame. Despite the fabulousness of all these creations I’ll be sticking to the snowman.
Now, where did I leave that coal.