sn'bobbledoh.

Yesterday, I watched blue sky and sunshine fade into grey, downy clouds and a hazy overcast blanket of air. I went to bed last night with dark swirls above, but the ground was cold and bare. When I got up this morning (at four o'clock, but not by my choice - no no. Anne needed someone to drag her out of bed so she could study - don't ask me HOW she studies at that hour, but she does.) Well, as I walked -...no...blundered all wobbly and dazed into the kitchen to put on coffee, I looked out our window and saw our whole yard covered in snow. SNOW! Snow? Really? Yeah. So the fields and houses and trees were all covered with prettiness. Georgia weather. The thing that's nice about this, though, is that this lovely stuff comes and everyone gets excited and the local DG (pronounced by M. BELL's dictionary "deege") gets a heap of business - all the bread, milk and twinkies (the three most important elements in life apparently) are zapped by the beams of panic-stricken locals and then, the beautiful stuff leaves nice and quickly so that we can all mosey on to the drum of our puttering, contented lives where every DEEGE has milk, bread, and twinkies enough to spare.
I like snow. I like it like my Papaw likes his grandkids: he likes' em to come and he likes' em to go.