Of things White and Snowy
First off, there is more snow heading my way. I woke this morning to more snow falling (though at the time of this writing it has slacked off) and predictions of a 12″ to 18″ of snow heading my way. When I was a kid, snow days meant sitting by the fire with hot chocolate with brief moments of bundling up with ziploc bags on my feet (what — it didn’t snow much and I never owned snow boots until I was over 30) to go play or build the world’s most pathetic snowman. As a grown up, snow days mean only one thing to me — WORK.
I work to clear the driveway (and the sidewalk). I work to entertain my child. I work to keep the fire going (I never knew how much work that was). I’m so tired at the end of a snowday that I want to crawl up into a ball and beg for summer. Only, I don’t really. Summer is a fine season, just isn’t my season. I really do enjoy the starkness of leafless trees and white covered lawns. I like it when the world turns to black and white and even the palest of colors seem bright and vibrant.
