After a light breakfast, we decided to go on our first snowshoe expedition of the season. Rick and I would have preferred to have four feet of snow on the ground, but with the warm winter we’ve had so far, we decided to take advantage of the five inches we did have. We tromped about on our property a bit, found some animal tracks (most likely rabbits and deer), and then proceeded to trespass on our neighbors’ fields. By the time we returned home the power had been restored. The lights on the porch were a welcome sign as we made our way back up the steep, icy driveway.

Sometimes, you have to improvise or jump in to a situation even when conditions are not exactly what you’d like them to be. This year we have a lot of plans that we want to try to put into play, and we’ll most likely need to be flexible in order to have success. Here’s hoping that at least a few of our ideas will come to fruition.

This, to me, is when the beauty of a snowstorm occurs: as we dig out. As we collectively make our way out of our snowy cocoon, like baby turtles emerging from buried nests. When neighbors join together for a group archaeological dig, that feels like an old-fashioned block party, and in the process become both acquainted and reacquainted with one another.

Overall, it was a wonderful birthday blizzard.

We plan to leave the cam up for the holidays. Feel free to enjoy our tree—and our holiday season—with us. Everyone’s welcome.

Running errands can be fun on a snowy day. Stomping through fresh white powdery goodness delights the soul. Waving to neighbors digging a car out of a snow bank. Wrestling with a springer spaniel for a drool-covered ball nestled deep in its mouth. The pooch manages muffled barks while avoiding my weak efforts to engage in a game of fetch.

Sarah and I throw mangled snowballs at each other. The snow is too dry to make anything that can go more than a few feet. A little girl up ahead wants to join in on our fun. While her dad shovels the walk, she tosses snow in my direction. A black dog drags his human down the street, wagging his tail. “You need a sled,” I call out to them. The wife shuffles briskly down patches of cleared sidewalk, sometimes hiding behind trees to avoid thrown snow.

We buy only necessities. Comfort foods for a snowy day. Eggs, cheese, Bisquick, syrup. We still haven’t decide whether we will have omelets or pancakes. We definitely need milk for hot chocolate later. We conclude that we already have orange juice at home.

We thank the cashier and divvy up the bags for transport. More pictures as we take a different way back. The wife sticks her tongue out at me, before making a snow angel.

Omelets it is.