There's snow. I, the ever-articulate when not actually speaking, have no words to describe the wonder and joy that are mine. This morning, I woke up in a tremendously foul mood, spent ten minutes putting pants on, brushing my teeth, and was standing in said pants and my bra brushing my hair when I finally open my eyes. The first thing I see is the scene out the window and it looks like a painted picture of a perfect christmas. I didn't have my glasses on, so everything was fairly blurry, but there was snow covering everything. There's a grill with a cover on it right outside my window and there were at least six inches of fresh, powdery white snow heaped on top of it and sliding down the sides. There was at least that much, possibly more, on the ground, on every branch of every tree, on the rooftops and hilltops and everything was just blanketed in white powder. For anybody who snowboards, you know what it means to have six inches of fresh powder. It means heaven on earth, it means being able to go as fast as you want and not being afraid to fall, it means falling without bruising your kneecaps or your ass or whatever you happen to fall on, it means falling on your back on a trail that's seldom used and having snow geyser up around you in this cloud of soft powder, it means better boarding. It means ecstasy and release, it means I'm going to be a very happy little bunny until the Bear runs me into a tree. Thank the Goddess, winter has come.
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