and so it snowed...

You know how it is: throw her a penny and she wants a dime. Well, we got a nickel's worth of snow today and yes, I would have liked a dime.

Oh, it was enchantingly pretty to wake up to this! (Looking out from the porch...)






I went out happily to rescue the cheepers from the misery of being trapped in the barn, fed them well and admired the beauty of the delicate snow.






(Yellow farmhouse, white snow... still falling!)






But it is cold and the snow is very delicate: like meringue. I bend down to form a snowball. I can't do it -- the pack of snow crumbles in my hand.

Still, it continues to fall -- delicate stuff, but more of it. Well, just a little more of it. I'd be surprised if we had more than four inches total and it is a fluffy pile of inches. Clamp it down and it's like a squashed sponge cake, only not as sticky.

(Breakfast, with a pretty view...)






I shovel the driveway. Ed offers to blow it out, but is it worth starting the great machine for it?

But more importantly, is it good enough for cross country skiing?

Weeeeell...

Ed and I head out to our nearby county park. It's exciting to be going skiing again. It's our first chance to do it this winter!






It's so pretty here!






But it's not a good run. There just isn't enough of a solid cover and Ed worries that he's scratching his skis. He takes them off. I try to take a downhill turn and fall hard when the boards catch gravel.

We continue on flatter ground, Ed still off skis. And now he crosses a patch of ice and falls even harder than me.

We proceed more cautiously, both on skis now and honestly, it is a fun hour despite the difficulties, but my oh my, would we love a good old snowstorm. (Not the damaging kind -- just a wet, lovely, thick snow blanket for our winter landscape.)

(Driving home... The whole band of forested land is the farmette.)






In the afternoon, Snowdrop comes over. And of course, she is terribly excited about building "the biggest snowman ever!!"

This is the best we could do:






Ed calls it our snow-clump. I tell Snowdrop the snowman looks better if she kneels next to him.






Ever the optimist, she asks -- can we build a snow house?
You can't blame me for not trying...






But grandma, it doesn't have a roof!

I explain to her that the roof (and the walls and everything in between) will have to wait for more snow.

We take the little sled and scoot about the farmette. And I have an idea.
Snowdrop, there is a secret house out here that you can enter, and it has a roof and it's very beautiful. I point to the tall firs that grow toward the far end of the farmette land. You can climb into it, see?

She does see. She scoots underneath the vast branches.






Just big enough for her. Fairly dry, with the scent of pine needles.





Can I come in?
If you ring the door bell!

But it's really to cramped for me. It's hers. And she is very reluctant to leave it!







Come on, little one! We can visit the cheepers!

Yes, that does it. Feeding them in the barn still ranks as a favorite of hers.






Can I play with them for a little bit?
One quick minute!






Indoors again, she is full of spark!






Her parents come over for dinner and she ropes them into her stories.






And of course, when Snowdrop talks, everyone, even Ed listens!






It's a beautiful day, a holiday of course. True, the snow presented small challenges, but more significantly, it delivered such great joys! And I am sure as anything, everyone will sleep well tonight!