Friday 6th December - Woman with a Snowball

Evening chaps, here is today's Blogvent door.  This one is being hurriedly typed as I prepare our house for Lily-Rose's birthday party tomorrow.  She is 8 today!  Anyway, on with the Wintery madness...

Woman with a Snowball (1887) 'FW'

I'm guessing this is from something like the Pears Annual as it has that commercial, pleasant look to it.  Here were have a comely looking lass awaiting someone with a snowball in her hot little hand.  Actually, thinking about it, if her hand is hot the person it is intended for will be in luck as there will be nothing left when she throws it.  Possibly she is an example of 'cold hands, warm heart' and her frosty palm will keep the ball has hard as stone, ripe to be lobbed into the face of her intended victim.  On second thoughts, that doesn't sound too warm hearted...

Nothing worse than getting a snowball straight in the muff...

As you can imagine, images of snowball fights abound in Victorian illustration.  They are cute, seasonal and can be easily and lucratively converted into Christmas cards.  Children are often shown pelting hell out of each other in all out snowy warfare.  The most popular subject is obviously boys, grubby faced urchins and posh, public school boys, all reduced to annihilating each other with snowballs in streets or parks.  Less common are little girls engaging in such rough and tumble, but this little lass in pink is obviously game.  What her tormentors don't know is she has a load of gravel secreted in her muff and she's about to start spiking her frosty missiles.

 My guess is that the woman in the first image is going to snow-ball her beloved in his desirable face.  Nothing says 'I love you' like a face full of ice with possibly a rock tenderly hidden for extra impact.  In my experience nothing says 'woman of mystery' like an solid snow-wall, behind which is a stock pile of tightly packed snowballs.  Boys love that sort of thing.  Trust me.

Men love a woman who can hold her own in a snowball fight...

Well, I shall go on hoping for snow and when it comes, I shall be waiting on my front lawn.  With a stockpile of snowballs and my game face on.  You have been warned.

See you tomorrow....