I was starting to think that the infamous New England winters were "no big deal." After a chilly yet pleasant fall, and an almost snow-free December, my southern bones were lulled into a false sense of toasty security.
We were graced with our first blizzard right after Christmas, and every week since has ushered in another round of the white stuff. So much of it, in fact, that it seems as though the 6-foot drifts in our yard will be a permanent fixture 'til June.
On top of the snow, we're dealing with bitterly cold temps. Tomorrow's forecasted high of 16° and low of -11° is just a tad ominous. Thank goodness for warm fires, hot chocolate, and sweats that feel oh so comfy on a most un-comfy cold day.
It's made for a bunch of fun, though, especially for the five-year-old (and forty-year-old) in our household. Aidan and Ty have become quite the sledding connoisseurs. And me? I'm getting really good at figuring out how to take pictures of snow on my camera.
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