Micro-Snowpocalypse

Lots of snow here in New England. So far, about a foot has fallen.

Usually, I’d be quite upset. Snow is fun and beautiful to look at but driving in it is awful. Shoveling is hazardous to your health.

Today, however, I’m celebrating the return of winter. I’m grateful it’s no longer eerily warm. Fifty degrees in January was crazy.

I know it won’t last. Meteorologists are saying it will be near fifty again by the end of the month. But for today, it’s really cold. And I’m happy about that.

Snow

A few pictures of today’s snow.

I don’t consider myself to be a winter person. The reason is simple: I don’t like being cold. I feel sad, however, when it doesn’t produce a classic colossal snow.

When I was a child, a huge snow storm meant home from school with mom. She made cookies and hot chocolate of course (what’s a snow day without them!), but she also made her special snow ice cream.

You heard me. Snow ice cream. My mom’s snow ice cream was the yummiest treat ever, some combination of sugar, cream, and condensed milk. Go ahead, look it up. You’ll find a few different recipes. None of them will be mom’s. If you want to try it, I have one caution—today’s snow is nowhere near as clean as the snow of my youth. Be careful.

While I can’t reproduce the ice cream, whenever it snows my partner and I grab the hot chocolate and watch it come down. Sometimes, like today, we bundle up and head outside. It wasn’t a lot of snow, three inches, maybe. We prefer at least six. In fact, the more snow the better—which you’d find hilarious if you knew the magnitude of our back and knee problems. But it brings us joy. That’s what snow is.

Joyous.

Take good care.