Speaking of "enjoying it", I love snow. Maybe you do, too. If you live someplace where is snows, you know about all the different kinds there are. Like the giant flakes that are heavy and wet that usually fall when it's barely cold enough to snow (or toward the end of a storm). There are also the teenie weenie dust-like flakes that sting for a second when they hit your cheeks in a good wind. Or the air-popped popcorn snow that swirls around in all directions that it's a wonder it ever lands on the ground at all. I've lived in the Northeast my whole life and have even come to know whether the feeling of the snow under my boots would make a better igloo than a snowball, or which kind of sled to bring to the nearest hill — flexible flyer, flying saucer, or the ol' reliable (lightening speed, out of control and totally un-steerable) rolled-up-plastic-sheet-with-no-fancy-name. Come to think of it, I don't think they make these anymore. Probably for the same reasons listed above.
No matter what kind of snow it is, I love it all. Which is why it was such a joy to wake up this morning to a good foot of it. Here are some pictures (yes, that's our house with dorky ornaments put on tree by yours truly):
This morning, my husband and I took a quiet walk on the beach, we were the only ones there! (This can also read: we were the only two koo-koos willing to subject ourselves to the 10 degree air, 20 mph wind, and 2 foot snow drifts).
Unfortunately, we had to resist the temptation to go for a swim because there was no lifeguard on duty. Oh well. But there's Pete, snowbathing. heehee