At long last, a smidgen of snow--but a smidgen goes a long way to satisfy these poor Southern children who have no concept of an actual "big snow." As I retrieved the newspaper this morning and brushed pellets of tiny snow off my coat, I had an intense pang of longing for big, fat flakes falling thick and fast. Don't get me wrong: I am thoroughly delighted to live in Tennessee. But having been raised in true snow country, I can't help but long for a few good fat snows.
All the schools are closed and all the slopes but one are open at Ober Gatlinburg, where Jesse is headed today. (Yes, my Canadian friends--schools close around here with even a mention of the word "snow." It's a mountain thing.) Most likely tomorrow it will all be gone; the daffodils will have shaken of their winter coat and endured. But for now, we are delighting in the simple pleasure of snow.
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