Fan of the Fake Snow
I walked the dog today wearing lounge pants, a long-sleeved t-shirt, a sweatshirt, a polar-fleeced lined jacket, gloves, and a knit hat. I think it was fifty-five degrees. It’s hard to even imagine myself living somewhere that the temperature regularly falls into the thirties or below. We get a few days a year where we skim into the thirties, but it’s as likely to be in the seventies as the forties all winter long. Possibly even the humid eighties–blech!
I’m perfectly content with my little basket of pretend snowballs. I don’t need the real thing.