It's not like I'm a Seattle native or anything, so maybe I don't know what I'm talking about, but I don't think snow is generally all that common for Seattle. Something about being so close to the great atmospheric equalizer that is the Puget Sound. But we had our third or fourth snowfall of the winter last night, and today has been white and fluffy, clear and cold.
Caitlyn and I went out, of course. Going out in fresh snow is always a challenge for me just because it looks so pretty when I'm still inside. It's a big, white, fluffy blanket draped over everything, and adding footprints rather ruins the illusion. But then, they've closed all the schools, and the neighborhood kids are all going to come out and ruin my illusions, so I best get out there and ruin them first, right? Besides, Caitlyn needs to be exposed to snow.
So for Caitlyn: tights, socks, sweatpants, shirt, sweatshirt, snow pants, shoes, jacket, hat, hood with scarf, and mittens. Her nose and eyelashes were about the only parts left "exposed." She waddled into the front yard and around to the back, helping me dust the snow off the evergreen plants (well, I dusted snow from the evergreen plants, she dusted snow from the leafless blueberry sticks.). She lost her balance, ended up on her knees, and needed a lift getting back to her feet (over-bundled, perhaps?). The occasional snowball, mislaid missiles from the snow fights among the teenagers last night, she called "'No-ball." We've not had a clear day in weeks; she'd say, "Bright light," and turn away from the sun before saying, "Down, up, peese." In the park, we watched the bigger kids attempt to slide down a short hill (into a gully full of rocks - oh, to be 12 and fearless!). One boy rolled down the hill instead, then laid there laughing, covered in snow. Caitlyn looked at me and said, "Uh-oh. Lay down."
For anyone curious, the official precipitation count as of midnight last night was .36 inches more than "normal" for January. I figure we had about 2 inches of accumulated snow this morning. As the afternoon fades, most of it is still here.