I am a poor excuse for a Vermonter, it is true, but I’ve gotten surprising used to snow in the past decade. The appearance of snow doesn’t strike me as an emergency anymore. It happens, and life goes on.
This weekend, however, the weather actually was frightful. An ice storm passed through on Saturday night, yielding inches-thick ice everywhere – thick enough for skating in the driveway, I’m told. We had a very low key holiday planned to begin with — really just the three of us here at home — and this dang ice has taken it down another notch or two. Festive plans with friends canceled not once but twice, and the last minute holiday shopping (which there is quite a bit of) has not gotten done. I can barely navigate the driveway.
On the plus side, inside it’s so delightful. Everyone at my house seemed pretty content to stay cozied up reading and doing puzzles all day yesterday, and that’s not so bad. John and I have been talking about the fact that the important thing about this season isn’t the presents, it’s the people. Here’s proof of that.