|Underneath the back steps.|
Our Father, who art in heaven, which is not the same thing as the sky which is currently dropping snow on us,
Holy is your name, which we may have taken in vain as we hacked at the two-inch sheet of ice that formed right in front of the door;
Thy springdom come, preferably before March 21st,
Thy will be done, which we would lobby to include sending our excess moisture to the parts of the earth that need it;
Give us this day the chance to get our daily bread, milk, and toilet paper before the snow arrives.
Forgive us for doubting the forecast, as we forgive those who forecast against us;
Lead us not into the temptation of drinking a gallon of hot chocolate in the pretense that it will keep us warm,
But deliver us from yet another school day.
For thine is the kingdom, the power for the furnace, and the glory of (although we complain, we must admit it is) a beautiful landscape of snow stretching on forever and ever.
|Somewhere on those trees there must be leaf buds.|
|The Senior Snow Fairy had to shovel this twice today,|
because Teen Snow Fairy was away all day.
|I finally got the sheet of ice next to the back door cleared. Mostly.|