snowflakes & flip-flops

Don't get me wrong: I am so ready to go to Florida to visit my dear friend (and yours), Christianne. According to Accuweather.com, I can expect temperatures in the mid- to high-70s during my stay. I do so need to thaw out. Here in my corner of the world, the red line of the thermometer has not been able to push much past 20 degrees. My attire these days is regularly comprised of gloves, scarves, thick socks, and my favorite black puffer vest. I come home with icy white hands and toes purple and tingling from the cold. So it seems ironic to be packing a suitcase with short-sleeved tops and contemplating the question of whether or not to pack flip-flops (in which case my agenda for today had better include a pedicure) when there is a fresh dusting of snow in my backyard, resting on the flat and frozen surface of the little pond outside my window.

We got some more snow here yesterday. Having had a couple of unfortunate driving experiences in this kind of weather over the past year or so (nothing major, just those slippery and icy situations you don't want to get into), I typically respond to those first few flakes like an old and wrinkly Scrooge, crossing my arms and sticking out my lower lip, thinking bah humbug. I don't want to drive in this stuff (said with spit and disdain), or I will most certainly slide into a ditch (which, for the record, has not happened).

Yesterday wasn't like that. I ran outside to the snow like a nine-year-old, wondering if this means school is going to be canceled. As those first flakes fell, resting on my arms and eyelashes and nose, something playful and mischievious was awakened in me. My brother and sister felt it too. We played right along with our littlest neighbors. We knew it was magic.

So we just went with it.

see all the 27 jan 08 snow day photos by kirsten.michelle