My sense of snow

Oh how I love the first snow of the year! Here in southern Montana we got our first snowstorm the other night. I was so excited I ran to fetch my angel and the husband so they could enjoy the beauty of the falling snow illuminated by the street lamp. We sat with our noses fogging up the window for a few seconds, then the two of them wandered off. Clearly they do not hold the first snow in as high esteem as yours truly. I started my mental Christmas list and continued to stare out the window as visions of sugar plums danced in my head.

Then came morning.

I always forget how much longer it takes to get anywhere when you have so much more clothing to don! I had to hunt up a hat and gloves for the angel. (Luckily they were exactly where they were supposed to be...a rare treat around here.) I also had to locate said items for myself so I could knock the snow off the car. While the car is warming up, I had drag the garbage can to the street through 5 inches of snow. A lot harder than it sounds. Where was the husband during all of this, you may ask? (That's what I was asking.) Sleeping soundly in his bed. He may have sensed his parenthood was being called into question just below the bedroom window, because he did wake and dress in time to see us off.

Now, I'm staring out the window, and I gotta tell ya, it's not as pretty anymore. We probably got around 9 or 10 inches out of this storm, and our yard is covered with grassy trails where a snowman was being created. Footsteps mar the front lawn and the vehicles no longer look like cute little snow cakes. The magic is gone, I guess. So...anybody know how long until spring?