I love the snow. In Oklahoma we didn’t get it every year—more like 1 year in 4. When we did get it, it was often sleet. And then, rarely, you’d get a snow several feet deep. I recall hiking about when I was about, oh, 13, and forgetting about the steepsided drainage ditch (in Oklahoma all unwalled ditches and creeks cut very deep into the earth, which lacks rocks: just plain dirt and sand moves along, leaving banks that are pretty straight-sided, well over your head.

Well, plunk! down I went. I looked up to a circle of blue sky: the snow was about 3′ above my head, but being typical ‘wet’ snow, it stayed put and didn’t cave in on me. So I began working at getting out. I did it finally by packing the snow into steps and climbing up that way—and just being real glad nobody saw it. OTOH, if that had been powder snow, and if it had caved in, I’d have been wishing for witnesses with a rope and shovel.

I didn’t build snowmen much: I hated to disturb the pristine coat of snow. Only once the place had become trampled, then I’d do it, but I hated the mess it made.

To this day I hate shoveling not for the job itself, but because I have to disturb the prettiness of it—in the practicality of being able to get to the garage.

We’re going to get rain on Tuesday, then right back in the freezer with more snow afterward. Wednesday morning I have an early appointment (endodontist job 2) and have to get out, so I’m really hoping the re-freeze doesn’t give me a coat of ice to contend with.

The good news is the antibiotic is working, and I’m feeling better. The decorations are up, prezzies are wrapped, and Monday we make the trek to the post office, weather permitting, to mail what needs mailing.