As Mother Nature graciously blankets our fair Commonwealth with foot upon foot of snow and ice, one’s thoughts naturally turn to hiemal diversions — skiing, snowboarding, curling, coat-wearing, and, of course, snow-fortress building.  Who doesn’t look forward to gazing out upon his domain from within the frosty confines of an august snow-castle?  Who is not awed by the fine craftsmanship that so often goes into these structures?  Let us not forget, moreover, that snow forts also serve a practical purpose.  Winter is the season when your enemies are most commonly wont to pursue your downfall.  For winter is the only season during which Mother Nature herself comes to the aid of these scoundrels, depositing in great abundance upon the earth ample ammunition which they may use against you.  And it is not merely your neighborhood rivals whom you must fear.  Recall, for instance, that nearby Norwood has the largest Viking-American population in New England!  Do you wish to protect yourself this winter from local thugs and Vikings*?  Do you wish to be admired by your friends and feared by your enemies?  Do you wish to sit, for hours at a time, in cold, moist snow?  Of course you do.  Read on, then, as I have decided to share with you a few tidbits of wisdom from my many years of experience in field of chionophylacteriology.

Step #1 – Draw your blueprints. “What will my snow fortress look like?”  Spend a decent amount of time (but no more than 30 minutes) visualizing, and sketching out on paper, the layout of your fort.  How tall shall the walls be?  By how many towers will it be surrounded?  Will there be a moat?  Will the moat be filled with crocodiles?  Will the crocodiles be able to survive in the bitter cold?  Should I fill the moat with polar bears instead?  What did I need to pick up at the grocery store later?  Questions like these will need to be answered before you begin!

Step #2 – Test the quality of the snow. Your plans, no matter how unambitious, will never come to fruition if the snow on the ground is of substandard quality.  The best snow will pack firmly, and yet will also absorb the shock of countless barrages of hostile snowballs without collapsing.  Only an amateur attempts an analysis by pressing a handful of snow between his mittened palms!  A snow’s quality can be discovered not by touch, but by taste.  The gelid concrete which you seek will have a certain tartness to it, not unlike dried cherries, with just the faintest hint of cinnamon.  Snow that tastes of merely water will not work.  Snow that tastes of mud or tire you should probably not have put in your mouth.  That’s just gross.

Step #3 – Seek the high ground. Basic tactics, children.  Find a hill, and build your fort upon it.  A hillock or substantial (I repeat, substantial) mound could suffice, if there are absolutely no hills anywhere.  Building on a mountaintop would be excessive.  Now you’re just being silly.  I mean, why not just say that you’re going to build your fort on the moon?  If you’re not going to take this seriously, I’m going to go home.  I am dead serious about that.  Are we clear on that?  Are you going to pay attention and knock off the clowning around?  All right, then.

Step #4 – Assemble your armed forces. It is foolish to believe that you can properly garrison a snow fort with the aid of only your friends.  Firstly, it is unlikely that your friends are well-trained in winter warfare, and will likely abandon you in the midst of battle.  Secondly, if you are reading this blog, you, much like Mr. Bakale, have very few / no friends.  As a child, I once thought I could remedy this by constructing a formidable force of snowmen.  How my tears froze as my carrot-nosed guardians treacherously ignored my orders to attack, and as they were rapidly pulverized by my giggling foes!  No, trust neither in your chums nor snowmen.  The wisest, the most practical strategy is to hire mercenaries.  Being professional warriors, they possess all of the necessary martial virtues, and, being human beings, they will probably not disintegrate into a pile of slush when struck.  In the town of Walpole, on the first evening following a substantial storm (i.e., six inches of snow or more), the condottieri of various mercenary companies can be found from 10PM to 12AM in the parking lot behind Town Hall, selling their services to the highest bidder.  The best, and certainly the most notorious, of these bands is the Canadian Grand Company, led by the dreaded Sophia Koukoulas (who, rumor has it, wears into battle a grisly necklace, made out of the earmuffs of fallen opponents).  Sophia’s assistance, however, is not cheap, and, if you are looking for more economical alternatives, I would recommend either the Gingerbread Legion, under the command of Mike “S’il Vous Plait” Demarais, or the White Parkas (known for their distinctive blue hats) of John “Lord Humungus” Reedy.

Step #5 – Conscript laborers. It is your responsibility to design the fortifications — not to build them!  The construction of an imposing snow fortress is a most laborious task, and certainly cannot be accomplished by you alone.  Furthermore, your soldiers will not be of much help as laborers.  If you hired mercenaries, note that they are always loath to engage in menial labor.  If you ask your friends for assistance, you will soon learn that they are busy with “the laundry” or “homework” or “not wasting their time building an extra-large igloo.”  If you constructed an army of snowmen, note that, being inanimate and made of snow, they are useless when it comes to doing anything that does not involve standing in one place and melting.  However, while you cannot use your troops to build the fort, you can use them to force others to build the fort.  Simply unleash your army upon the neighborhood at a time when you think many shall be frolicking in snowy yards.  Without a doubt, they will return with a great many captives, who, if they desire their freedom, will begin constructing your castle immediately (n.b., if your army consists of snowmen, this plan shall not work, since “enslaving locals” does not involve “standing in one place and melting”).

Step #6 – Appoint a seneschal. You will find the occasional departure from your snow fort to be absolutely necessary.  Firstly, the interior of the fort is very cold.  Secondly, the fort almost certainly has no bathroom (nor should it).  Lastly, the interior of the fort is extremely cold.  While you are away, you must ensure that your mercenaries do not rebel, that your fortifications do not deteriorate, and that your serfs do not flee.  Thus, you must appoint someone to the rank of seneschal.  A loyal seneschal will maintain and protect your icy estate as though it were his (or her) own.  Be cautious, however, as a position of such considerable authority might tempt this person to seize your possession as his (or her) own.  If you have even the slightest suspicion that your seneschal is contemplating treachery, do not hesitate for a moment to throw him (or her) to the yeti (see below).

Step #7 – Obtain a yeti. No snow fort can be considered complete without an authentic yeti.  Any itinerant Nepalese merchant worth his wooden cart of mysterious and exotic goods should have at least one yeti cub for sale; if he is sold out, let him know that you are interested in acquiring one, and he will make sure to set one aside for you the next time he is in town.  If, for some odd reason, your town is not visited by an itinerant Nepalese merchant, you should try Home Depot.  Once purchased, either house your yeti in a spacious pit (into which dissidents and captured foes may be tossed) or in a cage (out of which it may be released during an enemy assault) just outside the walls of the fortress.  Although yetis are immensely useful, it surprises me that so few are willing to acquire and raise them.  Certainly, I have heard some suggest that the yeti is simply too ferocious a beast to be kept in captivity.  Nonsense!  There is, for instance, no truth to the myth that yetis have a constant craving for the taste of human flesh.  On the contrary, there is nothing that a yeti finds as unpalatable as human flesh.  It is the savor of the bones that they enjoy.

If you follow this advice, you will be well-prepared to emerge victorious from winter hostilities of the usual duration (roughly one to two weeks).  If, however, you believe that you are facing a conflict of far greater proportions, ignore everything that I have said above.  In such a conflict, a snow fortress is of little worth.  Instead, you should construct a series snow trenches around your territory.  Two miles of trenches should be enough.  Be prepared for daily bombardments with iceballs and slushballs, fierce icicle-to-icicle fighting, and mustard gas.  However, with a patience, preparation, and a positive attitude, you should be able (after four or five years) to come out ahead!

* I sincerely hope that no Viking-Americans found my comments offensive, as they were not intended as such.  I was simply making an off-color joke, and I do realize that the vast majority of Viking-Americans are hard-working, law-abiding citizens.  They certainly do not deserve to have their heritage besmirched by a few bad apples who, from time to time, don horned helmets, pile into longships (or, as is more often the case nowadays, into a Ford Explorer with an airbrushed dragon on the hood), and embark upon orgies of looting and burning.