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When I was a kid I was teased about my hair sometimes.

"Fuzzy Wuzzy was a bear ..."

Rhymes that could be chanted were a delight.
NOT TO ME.

Kids at school could chant them ad nauseum.

"Once there was a little girl,
  and she had a little curl ..."

Even my loving and kind parents would quote the curl one.

My mother always 'finger curled' ringlets into my naturally curly hair.  At times she would hug me and perhaps give me a kiss on the forehead and say, "Once there was a little girl, and she had a little curl, right in the middle of  her forehead ..."

My mom loved me AND especially loved my hair. She loved to wrap it around her finger and 'pin' it to dry.

Most pictures show it neat and carefully 'guided'.
I say guided because I never could tolerate curlers.

My father quoted many things.
Scriptures, song lyrics, famous saying, and poetry.
He especially got a kick out of witty rhymes.

Sometimes he would scoop me up, swing around like he was dancing while singsong-ing that rhyme over and over again. He especially delighted in finishing the end of the rhyme,
"... and when she was good she was very, very good and when she was bad she was horrid."

I think he likely did that when I was being horrid.

He might look me straight in the eye.
He might modify the rhyme and repeat it a new way.
'... and when you are good, you are very, very good ...'

And then he might set me down.
I would feel determined to always be very, very good.
I felt loved - never horrid.

Sometimes I was horrid.
I cried buckets of tears about my hair.
I notice in many pictures bangs are VERY short.

this look was achieved by taping my bangs
 to my forehead until dry

The main problem was the curl in the middle of my forehead.
My mother told me often how lucky I was to have a "widow's peak".

my long hair pulled back tightly

That is a nice name for a double 'cowlick', in the front on a girl.

I had 2 ways to wear my hair - short or not.
'NOT' was pulled tightly back into submission.

about age 13 ish

Short always has some variation of a curl on the forehead.

about 15 ish

Styles dictated that hair should be straight and smooth.
I tried. I really tried. I truly really, REALLY tried.
I failed. My hair kept its kinks no matter what!

I still waffle - long  is always fuzzy ... ish ..

It keeps it kinks even now.
I often have a literal 'curl in the middle of my forehead'.
A curl that must always be 'guided'.

Hairspray, gel, and mousse coax it to a wave.
I can live with waves.

The curl changes directions occasionally.

I get out of the shower and towel my hair.
I wait a few minutes and shake it a bit.
Will it be left or right today?
I am never sure ...

Sometimes some of it goes left and some goes right.

One thing I do know.
There will be a curl in the middle of my forehead.

Still.

Always.

I promise to try to be good.
Very, very good.
And never horrid! [Fingers and toes crossed.]

VIOLA MELISSA PEARCE death

On 9 February 1899, in Alpine Arizona, my father's grandmother died tragically. Some family records state that, "Viola died in childbirth, when the midwife tried to rupture her water but punctured her bladder instead. Both mother and baby died."

I am so grateful for the medical miracles, medicines, technology, Doctors, nurses, and midwives that have helped my children arrive safely. So many unexpected things can occur so suddenly as lives hang in the balance during childbirth. 

In a short history, compiled by Mary H. Oviatt and Catherine D Hudson in 1965, I learned additional information about these courageous frontier women - both the expectant mother and the midwife that assisted. Stories and information for the short history were collected from Tom Hatch's children, Chloe, Victor, Norah, Della, Reed, and Grant, and recorded by Marie D Templeman. They also acknowledge the journal of Lorenzo Hill Hatch as a source of information.

" Each time a baby was due, it was Tom's duty to see that the team was ready to be hitched at a moment's notice to get Sister Jepson, who acted as doctor. It is hard to say to which the time seemed longest ... to the ones making the trip, or to the mother at home alone. Once when they entered they were greeted by the cry of the new baby - Victor."

I realized that the midwife was not inexperienced or foolish, and that she was doing the best she could when some unknown [to us] factor occurred. I also realized that a previous baby had been delivered safely before that midwife could come.

"In 1897, Tom embarked on a large business venture [cutting timber for mine props] on the Blue River, so he would have to work there. [ The Blue River arises near Alpine and flows south into the San Francisco River just upstream from Clifton Arizona] ... He had twenty-five six-horse teams working for him, and was doing a business of about three thousand dollars a month. He did very well for a while, but tragedy entered his life when he received word that his wife, Viola, was critically ill at home. He lost no time in returning and obtained a doctor."
-

Special thanks to Tom Todd on Find a Grave for this photo

Viola is buried in Alpine, Apache County, Arizona.

My father's mother, Chloe, was 13 years old. Viola left her husband, Thomas Hatch, with seven children to care for.

about fall 1894

back row l-r : Thomas Hatch, Victor held by 

       Viola Melissa Pearce, Thomas Layfayette [Faye]

front row l-r: Chloe, Catherine [Kate],  Lorenzo[Wren], Mary

-
A journal of her father-in-law, Lorenzo Hill Hatch, records,"Thomas ... and his seven motherless children visited in Woodruff.  My sympathies were touched very much. All of them are bright and as good as could be expected. He [Thomas] was a-going to leave two of them with us, but the oldest girl [Chloe] of thirteen said she could not sleep if she did not have them where she could care for them.”

-

I note in this short passage that the children were 'bright and as good as could be expected' during this visit to their grandparents. I also notice that the oldest child is kindly caring about her siblings. I like to think that she learned such kindness and diligence from her parents.

I attribute much of my desire to be more Christ like to my Grandma Chloe's influence.  She was a very kind, gentle person. Did she learn that from her mother?

What life habits and ways of living did your mother or grandmother teach you? If you could teach an important concept or ideal to your child what would you want them to learn? How would you teach it?

ELNA BOHNE death

Elna Campbell nee Bohne
Died: 9 February 2003.

She is my maternal Grandmother.

She was the mother of 11 children, 5 girls and 6 boys.

Her obituary tells many things about her. She had many hobbies and talents. She gave continual loving service to all around her. She volunteered in the community and the LDS church. She loved her family and the outdoors. The obituary could have filled the entire page.

But there is no way to really describe how hard she worked or her verve.

A memory may illustrate character. When I was 14 I missed my school bus by getting on a bus to another town [Hillspring where Grandma lived] with a friend.  I spent the evening with my friend and then, when her family was ready for a meal and I was not invited, I went to Grandma's. Grandma took me in, and then asked me if my mother knew where I was at. She didn't wait for an answer when I hesitated. She picked up a straw broom and chased me all the way to the store where one of the few phones in town was located and made sure I called mom.

She made sure I knew she loved me enough to smack me with that broom if I did not obey AND I was fed, given a bed for the night and put back on the bus (to school in Cardston) the next morning with some stern instructions regarding appropriate behaviors and future possibilities (and probabilities) if I ever 'ran away' again. My grandfather slipped me a 5 dollar bill when she wasn't looking - for a 'lunch downtown with my friends' he said.

Grandma bound us each to her with an exceptional balance of plain spoken, genuine love. She did it with her unique ability to focus on each as an individual.

When family gathered for a meeting the night prior to her funeral the gymnasium at the Hillspring Church was filled with her posterity - and many were not even able to attend. The next morning the family prayer was held in a full chapel. Friends and associates that came for the service had to be seated in the overflow and gym (after folding doors were opened behind the chapel).

My brother Scott spoke at her funeral. He told about her happiness in living. He talked about the joy she experienced in her love of family and the truths she found in The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints.  He reminded us of her love for each one of us and that because of Jesus Christ we will all live again someday.

She knew that. It gave her great happiness.

She also believed that because of the restored gospel of Jesus Christ her family can be together, even after death. She believed that through the sealing ordinances of the Priesthood that it is possible for families to continue their loving relationships forever.

Her greatest hope was always for her family to be loving and united. Family reunions were not saved for the year everyone could make it. They were held every year in the same location and everyone knew when and where, and that they were welcome to join the family 'camp' anytime that week - hundreds attended!

When 54 grandchildren marry and have families, numbers mount quickly. When they begin to marry, numbers increase exponentially.

One of my favorite pictures of her makes me laugh every time I see it. I wish I had a copy. She is 90 plus years old and getting around camp on a quad. What a role model!

The songs listed on her funeral program speak of her beliefs eloquently. The service opened with "O My Father" telling of God as a loving father and ended with "God Be With You Till We Meet Again".

A poem on the back of the program tells of a life well lived. A painting of Chief Mountain by her daughter, Jean - my mother, was placed on the front. This mountain is a prominent landmark in Southern Alberta. Her husband made oil paintings of it and sold them. It is an icon in the area.

In her family she is an icon. Her pervasive presence and example of determination and fortitude can be seen in  her descendants. I believe we will meet again. In my mind I imagine her bright eye piercing me through and through - sizing me up ... and then she will likely put me to work.

GEORGE JAMES FORSYTH death

Sarah Sophronia (Snow) and George James Forsyth

My father's paternal Grandfather,
George James Forsyth,
died on 6 February 1927 in Bountiful, Utah.

He was 83 years of old when he passed away.
His wife, Sarah Sophronia Snow,
would die just one month later.

They were married for 57 years.
They are buried together in Salt Lake City, Utah.

Forsyth plot looking North East.
Special thanks to Monica Snarr
for generously sharing her photos.

On 27 February my grandfather, Neil Snow Forsyth, recorded in his journal, "I received word that Father had passed away in Bountiful, Utah February 6th. I laid my men [doing carpentry] off until I got back. I phoned John on his farm, and Frank in Magrath [Alberta, Canada] and the 3 of us left for Utah the next morning on the train.

taken by Monica Snarr for 'Find A Grave'

"We attended Father's funeral in Bountiful on February 11th. I left to return home the next morning. Mother was very low with cancer and said she would soon follow father. All seven of their [living] children were there for Father's funeral. We had a good visit with Mother and she said not to come back for her funeral as it would not be long till she would go." **

Interment Book showing Forsyths
buried in Salt Lake City, Utah cemetery

A few years ago while visiting a son and his family in Salt Lake my husband and I visited the cemetery and, with permission, took some digital photographs of the Sexton's records there.

We also photographed some of the pages of the huge books showing the blocks, lots and ownership records.

We  located and again with permission photographed the interment records for George James Forsyth.

When we found the record for George James Forsyth we noticed his mother is also buried in the same lot, in a nearby plot.

Photo taken by Monica Snarr
Headstone of Isabella Donald Forsyth,
 mother of George James Forsyth.

A granddaughter with a keen sense of family history, Ruth Horne (daughter of Neil Snow Forsyth), visited the plot with us and identified the nearby broken and eroded red sandstone marker as Isabelle's grave stone.

photo by Monica Snarr

The Sexton's office also verifies that this location is her grave.

Family had her name and the name of one of her daughter's, Sevela D Forsyth, engraved on the back of the newer marker. We really appreciate Monica Snarr  posting  such pictures on 'Find A Grave' for us all to share.

Photo by Monica Snarr. (Chestnut/Behunin)
Forsyth lot looking south across plots
shows monuments in context.
 Gravestone for Thomas W. Forsyth
on left is a son to George and Sarah Forsyth.

The red sandstone marker near centre of photo  

is for the mother of George James Forsyth, 
Isabella Forsyth nee Donald.

This photo looking South West shows the back of the Forsyth headstone 'in context'  and also shows the back of the red sandstone marker. (We found this photo posted on Find a Grave by Chesunt/Behunin in November 2010)

The death certificate for George shows he had been 'attended' by a doctor for about a month before he died. Journals tell of the tender and loving care he received from his family.

I met some of his descendants at a Forsyth Reunion in Welling, Alberta, Canada in 1987. Some of his grandchildren and great grandchildren and even their children attended. How many of these cousins can you identify?

left to right:  D.R. Forsyth 1910, Alice his wife;
Mar Draper 1917; Ava Jensen 1912 [Elmer];
Wayne Draper [Mar's spouse]; Bell Smith 1914 [Travers];
Rhea Forsyth 1921; Donna Purnell;
Charles Heap Forsyth 1915, Thea his wife;
Glen Purnell [Donna's spouse]

Note: 2013 these are children of John James Forsyth 1881 [Jennie Heaps]

He and his family were well educated, industrious and hard working. Their names are found peppered through the history of the LDS church, the Mormon migration and pioneer settlement stories, and other historical records in the places they lived and worked.

Members of this family wrote personal journals and kept family histories. Many, many records are available to document my great grandfather's life. I am just beginning a quest to learn about him and his family. Reading them and collating the data in them will take a bit of time.

I am willing to share the information our family has.

What about you?
Did you know the Forsyth's or the Snow's?

Do you know of records I might read and research or copy?

**Neil Snow Forsyth History 
Chapter 5 - 1919 to 1940 page 6 compiled 1996 by daughter, Ruth Horne (Robert)

DEAR CLA-LA-LA

You were named after your maternal great grandfathers, Clarence Shelton and William David Campbell. On the pedigree you also have a paternal grandfather,William Henry Ames and many other William ancestors as the generations recede into the obscurities of great great (Charles William Buttars/ Warren William Campbell) and great great great (William Snow/ David William Campbell/ William Augustus Toman/ William Austin / William Stewart/ James William Huckins), and great to the nth power grandfathers.

Imagine our surprise when a good friend of your Grandpa Ames told us his name is William Clarence Bowden. He is your Aunt Jill's father. We just knew him as Bill.

I intended to call you Matt but it just wasn't you.
You WERE Clarence.

Just like your brother was Benjamin - not Ira.

When your Grandma Kit learned what we had decided to call you she was determined that you would be able to say your own name. Many children can not say the letter 'L' or else say it with a lisp. Each time she saw you she would repeat over and over to you, "Cla-la-la-la,  I la-la-la-love you."

Try to say that without your tongue being visible.
Go ahead try it.  You can't do it.
At least not audibly.
And certainly not the way she did.
She wanted you to see and mimic her tongue.

You thought it was a wonderful game and even as a tiny baby loved to stick out your own tongue and try to mimic hers.  As a child you always loved silly and funny games - wait - I don't think you ever grew out of that! You learned to blow 'raspberries' before you could even sit up.

And in spite of your sometimes goofy and 'laid back' attitude

you have always shown that you will 'go far' and accomplish whatever you put your mind to.

Cub Scout Arrow points almost to the hem, all the Weeblos pins,
and notice the 'knot', 'panda', and 'arrow of light'.

Your nickname naturally became Clala - often followed by "I lalalove you". And you were our most demonstrative child.

Thanks for your fun (and funny) loving ways.
We still la-la-la love you and always will.

And enjoy your birthday present.
Even if there is something 'fishy' about it.

You are likely one of the few kids in the world that might think fish is a fantastic birthday dinner. Happy Birthday! How soon do your insurance rates go down?? LOL

OPPOSITES

Opposite.
What an interesting word.
What an intriguing concept.

We all know that stop is the opposite of go, hot of cold, in of out, and dark the opposite of light.

Even a child wants happy more than sad, would much rather have someone be kind than mean and although they may have fun that gets them dirty they like to be clean.

We all know lots of opposites; black and white, high and low, pretty and ugly, new and old, big and small, short and tall. But what does the word 'opposite' mean?

Dictionaries tell us this adjective/adverb/preposition/noun can mean many things and be used in many ways.

(REALLY?? - all those parts of a language?)

Opposite may mean being in a place or position (situated or placed), on the other side of a line, space or thing; to be contrary in position. Opposite may also mean to move the other way - to reverse or move contrary to.

And it can be used to mean something is diametrically different. Go ahead, look up that word 'diametrically' - that is an interesting word too.

You may think of the meaning the word 'opposite' has to be adverse to, or against. Someone or something is opposed to or contrary in opinion or disposition.  And of course you can sit on the opposite side of the table. (It is this last form of the word that is a preposition).

The most common synonyms are contrary, adverse and contrast; but to be opposite is not necessarily bad. Isn't it nice to have differences and choices?

Neither wet nor dry is particularly better - context is everything - right? Diving into the pool is kinda cool when the weather is a sweltering triple digit day. Getting in the car after leaving its window open on a rainy day is not nearly so pleasant.

Somethings are important to remember and others are important to forget.

Up is fun when you can see for miles and miles but pretty terrifying if your plane is crashing. Down is really nice if you land safely but pretty nasty when you slip on ice.

I love hot summer days but without the cold of winter I would never get to build a snowman or see marshmallow snow drifts sparkling. If it were always clear and sunny the rain from cloudy skies could not wash and freshen the world's face.

Waking early to hear the birds sing and see the sun rise lifts our spirits but if I come to your party an hour early you may never invite me again.  I may not invite you to dinner again if you show up an hour late but I love the quiet I find late at night when the world is asleep.

Without the quiet peace of night's darkness sleep would not rejuvenate the body or mind but I love really loud music that excludes every other thought and sound to carry the mind into realms that are new each time it is performed.  Even life and death each have purpose and promise.

Good and bad, war and peace, right and wrong, truth and lies, love and hate, health and sickness, pleasure and pain - which would you choose? Don't tell me - I don't want to know.

I choose to observe and remember things that lift and enlighten, finding laughter in the midst of tears - it usually is there. A common English idiom states "that every cloud has a silver lining".  Another optimistic saying tells us "there was never a cloud the sun didn't shine through".

Opposites teach me to choose.
I can even choose the thoughts I keep in my mind.

The more we learn about something the more we can tell the difference between that thing and its opposite.

The more we learn about Jesus Christ and his ways the more we will be able to resist the temptations and deceptions of Satan.   D&C 68:6 teaches us, '... be of good cheer and do not fear, for I the Lord am with you, and will stand by you'.

I choose faith not fear.
 
I choose to trust that God is with me
and will stand by me [and you too].

If I am afraid I am not thinking of, or trusting, Him.

And I choose to sing - like a child ...

"If you chance to meet a frown,
Do not let it stay,
Quickly turn it upside down
And smile that frown away ..."

Primary Songbook page 267

DEAR CYNTHIA

Did you get it?

I send you a parcel.

I hope you like pink.

I know you like dresses.

You are going to be so pretty!

Be sure to take lots of pictures.

And please send me some.

Love Grandma and Papa

P.S. Happy Birthday!!!

PHOEBE ALICE TOLMAN death

My mother's paternal grandmother, Phoebe Alice Campbell nee Tolman, died in January 1939, in Cardston, Alberta, Canada, the small town I would grow up in.

Cardston  is where the nearest hospital is.  She lived in Hillspring, Alberta, Canada. My mother grew up there. Great-Grandma  is buried there, by her husband.

Notice her grave stone spells her name without an o. It should have an o. Her death certificate adds an i to her name - but as far as I have been able to determine her name did not have an i.

According to family "lore" she was quite ill for sometime before her passing. Aunt LuRay Jensen told me that her mother was not well any time after she was struck by lightening. I will look for that story. I think I wrote it out.

The 20 December 1928 edition of the Cardston News indicated she was "bedfast" for about a week at that time.

Pedigree charts say she died on the 21st day of January 1939. Her grave marker says the 30th and her death certificate says the 17th. Great Grandpa William Warren Campbell filled out the paper work on the 18th.

I suspect that the date on the gravestone refers to her burial. In that time period many things (including dates and the spelling of words and places) were not standardized. Many people of the older generations did not or could not read and write. Great-grandfather apparently could. He spells her birth place as 'Tuilla' - that is how 'Toole' Utah is spoken [Too-ill-ah].

 I suppose a government certificate makes the 17th official - either that or it needs to be corrected - I have seen errors on 'official' documents. I suppose some research is in order before a history can be written.

Found 24 February 2014: The 24 January 1939 edition of the Cardston News published Hillspring news from 23 of January (a Monday) states that Alice "passed away at the Cardston hospital early Wednesday morning." The previous Wednesday was 18 January 1939. It appears that "early in the morning" may make the official report become the 17th.

My mother knew her grandmother and grandfather and can tell stories about visiting with them. I have recorded and written down some of those stories. I want to put together a short biography of her if possible. Did you know her? Did one of your parents? Do you have any pictures of her? I have a few.

My favorite shows her with some grandchildren. It is casually labeled. I know that Ruth and Walton are my mother, Jean's, older siblings and Flora is a younger sister (by just over 2 years). The next younger sibling, Allen, is just less than 2 years younger than Flora - perhaps he is the un-named baby in her arms. I think mom and her siblings are on the left in this photo.

I know Roberta is Uncle Ted [Laurence Edward] Campbell's daughter. I assume that is her on the right and that the two boys on the right are Laurence and Ross but we really do not know who the baby is. I look at the pose of her seated, surrounded by her grandchildren, with a baby on her arm. Are they perhaps on their way to or from church? was it a special event? maybe for the baby? I may never know.

My grandfather, William David Campbell [know to friends as Bill] - her son, liked to take pictures but I do not have any that I know he took of her. I like to think he may have taken this one of his mother with his children but such notions are mere speculation.

When I visit the cemetery where she is buried I look around at the land where she lived. I see the mountains and hills, the sun and sky and clouds of that place. I feel the keen wind of Southern Alberta. I think of her life in a place and time I can only imagine. How I wish she had written even a few sentences to tell us about any part of her family or life.

I wonder if any of her children or grandchildren recorded anything about their life or her influence of interactions with them. She was a nurse and midwife. She attended training in Calgary, Alberta, Canada. I wonder how many babies arrived with her in attendance. Did any of their families record her name or how she helped them?

Found February 24, 2014: The 3rd of September 1931 edition of the Cardston News published the following information about two babies (at number 2. and 3.) born in Hillspring. "Mrs. Campbell attended" the births.

At the top of this clipping we see a Mr. and Mrs. George Tolman camping at the mountains (number 1). This would most likely be her younger brother George Tolman and his wife Emily Cheney. My mother has many cherished memories with "Uncle George and Aunt Emma."

I have kept a journal since I was 14 years of age.
I do not write every day.
But I do write - I try to write a little bit.

Will my children and grandchildren pore over it's pages someday? Will they find word pictures of my life, the places I have been and even of themselves? Will they want to know only what medicines, machines and innovations we do and do not have or will they want to also know what I believed or how I lived?

I don't know.

Have you written a sentence or two about your family or life?
Do you keep a journal?
What 'snapshot' does it capture?

WHAT A DIFFERENCE A DAY (or 2) MAKES

The other day I sniveled a tiny little bit about snow being absent this winter.

EXHIBIT A: Monday 16 Jan 2012, 10 p.m.
Sum total of evidence this is winter
Corner of driveway and front walk  

I love building and having snowmen (or girls).
You can have a lot of fun with snow people.

And I so wanted to have my new 'lasagna' garden snowed on so it will 'cook' properly when it gets all soggy etc.

ASIDE: Yes, I have succumbed to the newest gardening fad. I might as well give it a try - it is nearly free, fairly harmless as far as I can determine, did not require super human effort to start, AND promises to make gardening simpler and require less labor (can it really???) - now THAT is something I would like!!!

And wouldn't it be nice if it actually delivers richer soil, fewer weeds and increased yields.  Seeing how as my garden has not been terrifically productive the past few years, I don't see that we have anything to lose except perhaps a little bit of time and perhaps some effort.

But we will discuss that project another day.
We have a good start though ...

Now back to today.

Tuesday the forecast predicted a storm and the west side of the state staggered as several feet avalanched communities unaccustomed to snow.

In the afternoon a dark cloud boiled in the sky until the cold but sunny day was left stark and bleak in a steady, numbing north wind. A few flakes fell in a flurry teasing the sear lawns that retained their dry coats - but then the afternoon cleared and the sun, low on the horizon now and giving no warmth, returned briefly to end the day.

Tuesday: Our resident woodpecker huddled
on the side of a tree opposite the wind.

Snow began to fall early Wednesday - sometime near 5 a.m. It continued the rest of the day, through the night Wednesday - and all day and night Thursday. We now have about the same amount of snow as usual in January. But it came in on one major storm.

EXHIBIT B:
What a difference a day makes - I've had to shovel this storm twice now!
Note these piles are over 5' wide and about 3' deep.

I love snowmen.  This snow has been light and fine and dry. Not good snowman snow. I have hoped, however, for enough warmth that the snowmen just can't stay away.

The biting chill of the past few weeks lingers, though.

The North Wind has whipped the snow into amazing sculptures hanging oddly here and there and sifted it, and drifted it into nooks and crannies in astonishing piles.

When David left for work Wednesday morning the driveway did not need to be shoveled. When I had to go out at noon I had to shovel for an hour to move the snow from where the car he drove away had been.

I have missed having snow but I have not missed icy roads.
I don't mind shoveling but it IS time consuming.
I wasn't complaining Monday just observing.

And while on that topic - of observing - where have youngsters that want money and are willing to work for it gone?  Not  a single one has come by to offer to clean my sidewalks OR to build me a snowman? I would think they would come ask for such easy money - especially after how they got such easy money before! And school was cancelled today -weather advisory and all. Kids should have had plenty of time to make a serious haul off their neighbors - everyone is positively buried - if not by the wind then by the plows!

Doesn't anyone have a work ethic anymore?

And now it is raining.
What??? you ask - raining?
Yeppers - raining.

Raindrops are falling - after and as they freeze!!

Everything looks candy coated.
If my car looks like this what condition is the street in?

Did you ever hear frozen rain falling?
Or is that the snow sizzling as the wet drops hit?
How would you describe that sound?