We got whacked pretty good. It started last night around 10:30 as freezing rain. By four thirty in the morning it looked like we had at least three inches (though I'm pretty bad at estimathing this sort of thing), and I thought that was going to be the end of it. But it started up again around six thirty and dumped another few inches before stopping about an hour ago.

Much to my son's chagrin the schools in our area stayed open, and the mile and a half journey turned out to be an adventure since, quite surprisingly, not a single street in the neighborhood had been plowed. Upon returning home my three year old daughter - bundled from head to toe in pink snow gear - eagerly assisted with shoveling duties using the miniature red snow shovel Santa brought her last year.

The snow is thick, wet, and heavy - the kind that forms perfectly to the glove and makes the impulse to throw it simply irresistable. So after shoveling my daughter got her first lesson in the fine art of snowball making. She's now ready to be on "Dad's team" for the action that will undoutedly ensue when her brother gets home from school later this afternoon.