Son has danced the Snow Dance, invoking all manner of precipitation. But there are more types of snow than dreamt of in his philosophy, and the kind he perhaps invoked is the one that doesn't stick. Or even stay frozen once it hits the ground. It has "snowed," steadily, all day long. Quite pretty, and very visible from inside our respective (oh so un-cancelled) schools.
On another note, tomorrow is one of my fav classes in the Romantic period: the ballad. I get to take in my ipod. Woo hoo!
W is for Winter and Wool
13 hours ago