We awoke this morning to a beautiful, proper snow storm. Son of COG tried to go skiing but announced, coming back into the house, that it was too windy to ski. There are wonderful big drifts around fences and walls and big trees. The Bride, reveling in memories of the wonderful snowstorms of her Northern childhood, feels quite cheerful and is humming winter songs.
The COG, on the other hand, is walking around the house, peering out of windows and muttering under his breath about when to get up the snow. For, as it so often does here, near the ocean, the snow is already turning to rain. Clearing the drive too soon will result in a drive coated with ice. Too late, and the snow will have an impermeable crust of ice - too heavy for the snowblower. At exactly the right moment, the snow will have been a sponge, holding the frozen rain so that after snowblowing, the drive will be washed clean by rain.
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