I is for igloo…
When I was little, I thought it would be fun to live in an igloo. I grew up in a very snowy, very cold, very small town. Well, it was that way for half of the year at least. Or, it was always small, but it was only cold and snowy for 6-8 months. Anyhow, when I was a wee child, I used to dream about making an extravagant, or at least sturdy, home out of ice and snow, and I dreamed of leaving my warm, comfortable bedroom and moving into said icy castle.
I had this weird idea that the igloos I saw in picture books and on television were much larger on the inside than they appeared from the outside. I was convinced that they were somehow magic, and that as soon as you entered into them they stretched on and on.
Now, it is true that my imagination was pretty wild then, and instead of recognizing it as something I was just wishing could happen, I decided that anything I could imagine was, indeed, probable and most likely possible. So, every winter I would go outside, find a snow pile, and then I would start digging into it to create my snow cave and substitute igloo.
Of course, every year I would have to admit defeat when the cave never seemed to hit the point where it would magically transform into some sort of freezing mansion. I figured that it must need to hit a certain size before that happened and that I just never quite got there. Eventually I decided that it must not be able to happen anywhere but Alaska or the far, northern reaches of Canada. So I gave up.
My ridiculous imagination never really subsided. I still have it and I still go off on wild tangents and have crazy daydreams. I have hit the point, however, where I no longer believe that all of my crazy supposing could actually come to fruition. At least, I’ve hit the point where I no longer tell people that I believe those things.
However, there is a part of me that longs to live in an igloo, and that part of me imagines that if I were to visit Alaska (or the far, northern reaches of Canada), I might be able to find a snow bank and start digging, and if I were to dig long enough and create a big enough cave, it might just eventually turn into something more…
The snow outside one of the houses where I grew up. Photo by my mommy.
Kristine Hamilton 
I enjoyed your post. I grew up in snowy Upper Michigan, and I used to try to build igloos each winter. They just never seemed to turn out the way I wanted them to, though. :)
It’s great that your imagination has never subsided. Life would be boring without it!
Love how you put things. I think I managed twice to be part of a team that succeeded in tunneling all the way through one of those big piles–only once could two of us sit in there… And I could be your counter part–you are a semi-crazy blonde girl and I am a crazy semi-blonde girl.
Thank you! And everyone needs a counter-part… yeah?
I used to try to make an igloo out of the piles of snow left by the snow plow, but it never worked. You could always make reservations at that Ice Hotel; I think it’s in Scandanavia somewhere.
Visiting from A-Z
http://tahomabeadworks.blogspot.com/
That ice hotel deal has intrigued me for a while. :D
It seems like there should be a story in your igloo dreams… Great post! I’ve always thought it would be fun to build an igloo…
I’ve never tried building an igloo, next time it snows, I’ll be ready!
Yay, awesome points! But that is funny, I had the same igloo ideas as a kid that never panned out. I still haven’t given up trying!
I always thought igloos had to be much bigger inside too, otherwise, how could a whole family fit into one? When we lived in Michigan, my kids would make rooms, just no ceiling – very tall walls. They would pour a little bit of water of it and the end of the day so during the night it would become a solid ice wall. Ceilings always fell in.
I’m SO glad that I’m not the only one that thought that! :-)