I thought we were going to sneak by this winter without having to deal with a snow storm. I was wrong. But honestly, it hasn't been that bad. The rumor was that we were going to have a very heavy winter with all kinds of precipitation, so I planned ahead. I bought snowsuits. I bought proper snowshoes. I bought gloves that don't make your hands cold when they get wet.
And then we got spring all winter long. And I was totally ok with that. I loved it, to tell you the truth. But as I stood at our front door this afternoon, smelling the hot cocoa and soup on the stove top and watching the big, beautiful flakes just keep falling while Jason and the girls had a snowball fight in the front yard, I decided I was thankful that the snow came. I was thankful that we were able to use the snow clothes at least once. I was thankful that Jason felt well enough to go outside for a bit. I was thankful for a sweet, homey environment that our fun, old house seems to just keep on providing.
It was a good day and one that will make me grin when I think back on it.