'tis the season to be jolly...

I'm not a romantic. I'm a realist. So when I think snow, I don't think soft flurries floating down to squeals of children (god forbid) playing in the yard making frosty the snowman.

I'm thinking... fumbling of gloves, scarves for practicality and not fashion, and how to safely get across the pavement without falling flat on my face (or shoulder popping out of socket) in front of a line-up of cars... because I know what all the bored drivers at the lights will be doing - checking out the pedestrians who are fighting against the wind and clambering over small but lethal piles of snow to get to the side-walk.

I haven't quite worked out what the best approach is... to test with the toes before lowering the rest of the foot when crossing glossy pavements, or to land the whole foot at once for stability. I miss my Merrel outdoor shoes, although they haven't been at all trustworthy in the past, it would do more good here than collecting dust under my bed.

Before the snowstorm hit

Overnight transformation to this

Gord put to work whilst I cheer him on from inside