So, nobody blow my cover with the poet, but I'm actually thrilled that we live somewhere that gets regular and (what I would consider) significant snow. Or maybe just significantly more snow than we got in DC, "snowmageddon" events aside.
The night that we moved in, it was snowing. Not heavily, and it only left a dusting on the ground, but snowing indeed. Since then, we've had a couple of days where we've gotten an inch or two of snow, and this weekend we got a nice dump of it.
We had Graham home for about two weeks when that big snowstorm hit DC. I think he remembers it.
Molly and Sofie haven't really experienced much snow. Molly is a pretty princess who does not like to go outside when it is cold, raining, has recently rained, might possible rain, or if the sun goes behind a cloud.
Sofie is generally just scared of everything.
When we woke up yesterday morning and saw how much was coming down, we took them out for a very short and windy walk in it (mostly in hopes that they would stop being ticking time bombs of poop).
They tore up and down the sidewalk, wrestled and rolled around and generally wore themselves out very quickly. (And yes, our plan was successful).
My run was not quite as successful, however. I headed up the street and turned left on the trail, straight into the ridiculous wind. After spending a minute or so running in place while being attacked with snow bullets, eyes squeezed shut, I reluctantly decided to shut it down. I'll eat more Wheaties and try again next time.
But the snow has moved on, the wind has died today, and today I'll head out for a lovely long run in the bright sunshine. 12º and 12ish inches of snow?
I'm still so happy to be here.