we woke up to dire predictions and an onslaught of cancellations. i begged Beloved not to drive in the impending disaster.
at noon he called from farmington. it's 33 degrees, he said. and it's raining.
it was flurrying here, little pellets of snow that floated menacingly down and didn't stick. it's not sticking here, i answered.
it's almost four o'clock now, and the wind is blowing harder and the snow is starting to swirl. there also seems to be a lot more of it.
i wouldn't be surprised if there's another snow day - this time with snow - tomorrow.
and furthermore, the war will end. blessed be.