Frozen Precipitation (I believe they call it snow)

After a few flurries Thanksgiving weekend, the Arctic revealed to us its true nature. Like an American with irritable bowel syndrome after an all-you-can eat Thai food buffet, the Arctic dumped a foot of snow on us overnight. Just for scale, note the snow on 1) Maggie's swing:




2) The patio table:



3) and at the base of my truck tires:











After living in the south for the better part of the past 15 years, I had forgotten how serene the snow can be - silently drifting through the somber winter air while the world slumbers completely unaware. Unfortunately, the highs in the single digits that followed the snow quickly snapped us out of our poetic daydream. (I am secretly enjoying the cold. I have actually not broken a sweat since I moved up here.)


After bundling up Maggie like Randy from the Christmas Story, we dared to venture outside. Don't worry grandparents, she has about 5 layers of clothes on. If you don't believe me, just watch her try to walk with all this stuff on.











I put this video last, because Maggie gives a nice au' revoir at the end: