Rudolph's red nose has nothing on mine right now.

Last night I went to sleep in a brown, soggy mushland, and this morning I woke up to fairyland. We had full run of the yard, because the fairies themselves were bundled up in their wee houses, sipping rose hip tea out of acorns and comfortably roasting their feet over a pine needle fire. (If you don't believe me, I'm sorry. It's quite true, however. I myself stumbled across a large party of them throwing snowballs at each other in the cedar tree, snugly wrapped up in fur tippets created from bits of cast off cat fur which they painstakingly collected in preparation for just such a snowy day.)


Laura made a snowlady. I'm quite jealous of her hair.

Mamsie and me.


We convinced my Mamaw to get dressed and come out. Six inches of snow doesn't happen every year in north Mississippi!

Now we're inside, thawing out our stiff fingers, ice-chip toes, and afore-mentioned red noses with soup and hot cocoa, preparing to consume large amounts of snow cream. (Snow cream is absolutely amazing, by the way, in case you're a poor creature who has never had the sweet, creamy delight which I'm pretty sure the gods on Mount Parnassus would have eaten had they existed.)