"I'm starting to maybe get tired of snow," I admitted last night, moments after Mr. Weatherman described the next chapter of The Whitening: A Horror Tale of New England Winter.
The Chap muttered something that sounded like, "What does it take to push you over the edge?" before using several bad words that I can no longer say because I gave them up for Lent.
Between now and tomorrow evening, we're told to expect another 6-to-9 inches, depending which weather map--Manchester or Boston--you're viewing.
Yes, I still love snow. I don't mind watching it drift down from the sky. The difficulty lies in where to put it once it hits the ground. We've got 21 acres here, but 20 are tree-covered. Our snow plow man (who's getting very rich) is running out of room at the end of our drives to push the snow.
This morning when I went out to feed the birds, I found lots of tracks criss-crossing the snowscape. Including these, near the old lobster trap.
More likely the snowshoe hare. Or a very large grey squirrel.
It's only February. I don't like to remember that March is typically the "snowiest" month....
Our girls are enjoying the white stuff. Especially Ruth.
Jewel looks forward to another day of playing outside.
Exciting plans for tomorrow. We're determined not to let the weather slow us down.
Before signing off--greetings and gratitude to all my new Facebook friends!