that fluffy white stuff

This morning when I woke up, I did something I rarely ever do. I checked the weather. Imagine my surprise when I saw one singular glorious word standing out like a beacon amongst the others.

S.N.O.W.

Oh boy, did I get excited. Because I love snow. I love how it makes everything, even the city, seem quiet when it falls, and how sometimes it sparkles so much I feel God must just be up there throwing down buckets and buckets of glitter. I love stomping around in freshly packed snow, and stepping out side and being warmed by icy snow reflecting the sun.

Basically, it's clear that not only am I New England-er born and raised. I'm also one of those crazy fools who thinks snow is the cat's meow. 

Except when it February and it's been snowing for months and the snow piles are 6 feet high and all of my boots have sprung leaks. Can we all say, "Hello, last winter, I hope I never have to make your acquaintance again"? Even though I did love all the snow days from work you made possible. And late starts. And early dismissals. 

Unfortunately, though, as I sit here typing this, it doesn't seem that the snow is going to make an appearance in the Beantown tonight. At least as much as I can tell from my window. A friend just called though to say hello and informed me that it's snowing quite a bit in my home town in CT.

When she told me, I was tinged with an unnatural jealousy. Of someone else's snow. Don't say it, I already know. . .

Is it snowing where you all are?

In celebration of the almost snow here, I'm going to go have a ginger pumpkin cupcake I baked with friends last night and drink some cocoa.