We Interrupt This Regularly Scheduled Chore Time

To play in the snow.

Yesterday's snow marked the first sticking-around-for-a-while snow of the season, though what season it is I find difficult to tell Abigail.

Is it winter? 

No. 

Is it fall? 

Yes. 

But it is snow? Snow should only come in the winter. . . 

And on it goes. Round and round.

The weather called for sunny, snow-melting warmth to move in during the afternoon. The forecasters were wrong, but not wanting to take a chance, we headed outside.

And I am so glad we did!

Preparing to Throw the First Handful

Stopping Before the Scary Wall (and drop). Perhaps a Fence During the Thaw.

We Can Do It While You Wait at the Scary Wall to Stop Us Though Why You Would Want To Is Beyond Simon's Comprehension 

The snow was less like snow and more like little snow covered blobs of frozen rain sticking to the grass. There wasn't much of it, but definitely enough to justify sledding (and good, speedy sledding at that), throwing, making tracks through, and finishing with hot cocoa. Which I finally made to my liking.

Thursday's load of laundry was finished and ironed. My jeans were hemmed. Mittens were attempted. And pasta was mixed and cut. The dishes weren't put away. The counters were left covered in pasta-making flour. The living room floors were passable only with great care.

But we went outside!

and played!

and laughed! 

and I wasn't deemed grouchy!

I'll take it.