This is what I woke up to this morning. Beautiful, glorious snow! I love snow, while looking out the windows toasty and warm inside. It was perfect Christmas snow; big, fluffy, wet flakes. Just right for making a snowman or having a snow ball fight. But driving in that snow is another story. Visibility was poor and we are expected to get another 6-12 inches by tomorrow, so there is the possibility of a snow day.

But I'm happy right now to see my pretty trees outside and watch Annabelle's face light up. I don't plan on worrying about the adult things that need worrying about (snow blowing, driving conditions, school closings, family and friends all safe from the weather) until I have to. Right now I'll remember when I was a kid and snow was a miracle, not a hassle. To the pure joy of playing outside and coming in to hot chocolate and my mom blowing warm air kisses onto my frozen fingers. Apple cheeks and cherry noses and snow pants and boots, yard long scarves, mittens and socks and jackets and hats. I love snow for the memories that it has for me, of the care-free me that gets hard to remember sometimes. That is until the first snow falls again.