It started snowing last night. Sunday. New Years Day. About 8pm.
Our first REAL snowstorm of the season.
By the time I went to bed at 11, there was over two inches on the ground. Mister and I were both awakened by a super bright flash of light, and a loud clap of THUNDER about 4am.
It only happened the one time. Weird.
When we got up at 8am, there was 5 inches on the ground.
As I type this at 7pm, on Monday, January 2nd, twenty three hours into this storm, we're looking at about 8-9 inches outside.
It's still falling.
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Short went outside to play in the snow with the dogs this afternoon. He would throw snowballs, and they would chase after them, and wrestle.
Then Abby came over, and knocked Short down. Pushed him right over in the snow.
Then she started digging at his hand with her paws.... like she was trying to put a hole in it.
He realized what she was doing a moment later when she grabbed his glove in her teeth, and whipped it off his hand, and took off running with it.
He jumped up and chased after her. She just ran. And then when he got close to her, she threw the glove up into the air, away from him, and Bandit came flying around him, scooping up the discarded glove, and running in the other direction.
Those dogs played keep away with his glove for almost 10 minutes before he finally tired them out enough that they gave him back his glove, and then everyone came inside to warm up.
He held up both gloves next to each other once indoors. One was sort of wet looking with a little snow around the edges.
The other looked like it was trying to dig its way out of a snowball.
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I've got the last of the Christmas ham cooking in a huge pan of scalloped potatoes, and a hot blaze, roaring in the wood stove.
I don't mind being snow bound one, tiny bit.