The first snow of the year.


There's something about the very first snowfall that's romantic. Everything's all fluffy and wonderful and you walk around humming carols and thinking about Christmas. You make Hot Chocolate or tea or cider or something and you stand by the window watching it float down with your significant other... or, in my case this morning, sit in a comfy chair with cats on my lap ... purring of course... to watch it drift down and blanket everything in softness and sparkles. You daydream about being a kid and doing things like catching snowflakes on your tongue and building snowmen and having snowball fights and sledding and all that great kid/snow stuff...
Tomorrow, you'll remember you're the grownup and not a kid and the only snow fight you'll be having any time soon will be the first of many involving a shovel to be joined by the wrestling matches with the nasty cold stuff as you try to get the brush out of the car without letting too much of the snow in. You'll find the ugly boots that keep your feet warm until you step in a puddle... which you always do and for some reason the makers of snow boots haven't caught on to the fact that icy water always seems to be lurking somewhere near falling snow so they don't make them waterproof. You'll cuss the driving and freezing and the heating bill.

But, let that start tomorrow. Today is the first day of the snow.. when it's still pretty and romantic and Christmassy and you haven't had time to be frustrated just yet. Today is the day for afghans and cats on laps and warm beverage and snuggling and fireplaces and gazing dreamily out the window while you hum.

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