the winter that won’t go away

Woke up this morning to another blanket of snow. I admit… it’s better than the grey, soggy, mostly-but-not-quite-all-leaving-nothing-but-blackened-gross snow that we had when I went to bed last night. Still.. I’m tired of it. Granted, it’s hard to complain when you’ve chosen to live ON A MOUNTAIN. IN THE ALPES. But the last two winters weren’t like this. They weren’t so… well… white.

Kaitlyn wore her snow pants and ski jacket to school. Turns out, you’re supposed to have that on in order to play outside at recess. She hasn’t mentioned this to me any of the previous times it snowed. I didn’t want to let her wear her good ski outfit. If something happened to it (like getting lost, torn or muddy), I’d be pretty mad. So I dug out two year old ski pants and pulled those on her over her jeans. (She had to wear pants with pockets so she could take her teeth to school to show her friends. Gross.) The ski pants are a wee bit short. They barely cover the top of her snowboots. Still… they do cover them. She can change into dry socks at lunch.

I looked around and realized I own four pairs of boots. Four. I’ve never been someone to wear boots. And now I live in them. Now I understand all those magazine articles in spring about the thrill of wearing sandals.

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