I never put much stock in the prognostications of ground dwelling rodents in relation to their shadow casting, but I have been proven oh so very wrong.
After having 60 degree weather at the start of the week last night Mr. Phil took it upon himself to thunder over a foot of the white stuff all across the midwest/heartland/middle o' nowhere/Narnia over night.
As you can about guess the dog is ecstatic, acting like a puppy who is driving us all mad as we fight to the death through this mentally offsetting cabin fever.
Hitting her baby stride the first winter that trapped us all in for four days around Christmas she turns into a mad happy machine whenever the snow gets past her knees. And in the process drives us to the brink of snow madness.
Which can be evidenced in the two pictures I proceeded to take with my props to keep myself from strangling Jack Nicholson in the basement.
So far we've been pretty lucky, no downed branches, no loss of power, and the roads are thawing quickly thanks to the temps hoovering around freezing.
But there's a threat of more snow coming so I don't know if we'll all make it out alive *hefts up axe*
Aw, look at Essie. Ecstatic doesn't begin to describe her here - she is ready to go, that's for sure!
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