The weather forecasters were not warning of blizzards, as a matter of fact, I'm pretty sure that my weather app didn't mention snow at all this week. I figured there might be a dusting of snow and if I run in the street, I should be fine.
I get up, dress in layers with long underwear under my running tights (pretty, as you can imagine). Then I walk to the door and look at the previously shoveled walk.
There's at least three inches of snow.
How did this happen? Shouldn't someone have warned me?
I sneak back into my dark bedroom. Creaky wooden floors always give me away though. I use my phone as a flashlight and find my hiking boots. I add an extra wool sweater to my ensemble, since I won't get as warm walking as I would running.
Hat, scarf, gloves.
I walk through the virgin snow. It is powdery and when my foot moves forward through it, a wave of snow sprays ahead of it.
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| This pic from http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Types_of_snow, which actually says this is hoarfrost rather than powdery snow. |
Then I walk home with my hunted and gathered goodies. I spend another half hour shoveling the walk and sweeping the snow off Tucker's car before he leaves for school.
I didn't get cold, but the music on my phone kind of froze after about an hour and half outside.
Hmmm. Maybe it's time to take out those cross country skis and head down to the park.
The only problem is, that once I'm inside and warm, I forget that I didn't get cold and I don't want to go outside again. I'll probably stay by the fire, just because I can.
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