The snow just keeps falling. It started last night and the weather report predicts it will fall all this week, finally stopping this coming Saturday.
So I sit here listening to Mahler, a good composer for snow, and working on stuff other than my blog, which has been kind of dormant the past week or so.
Fortunately our power hasn't gone out, as it frequently does around here, since I have a brisket in the crockpot. It's good before you eat it 'cause the house smells wonderful as it cooks away.
The animals are all hunkered down. When it comes time to go out to pee, Huxley the piebald dachshund will take one look at the fresh snow on the ground, turn around, and come back inside. We'll have to force him out to go. But I can't blame the poor little guy, he's so close to the ground.
Maybe it'll let up enough for me to jog tomorrow morning, if I can force myself to go out in it. And I'm not that low to the ground...

Comments:

Being disabled is the perfect reason to decline outings on days that are very snowy or very cold. Because I read, I never get cabin fever, and because I exercise at home, I don't miss a day. After all those years of going to work in below zero weather, it is such a relief to look out and say to myself, "Nope, not going out there."

We are having a storm. It is very hard on Rex. He hates the God of thunder.

I think red rock country would look lovely with snow. Sure beats our ugly gray landscape.

All is right with the world--I ask for so little--I am back in my shorts, short sleeve shirt and flip-flops---temps in high 70s low 80s--I am a happy man!!

I live in Northern California for a reason, but snow does happen during these intense storms we are having, "they" say for at least the next 10 days or so!! I think we are at 25+ inches for our season total so far!!

I have listened to Mahler and dislike his work. Sophie, the major piano pedagogue I worked with for 30 years also did not like him. Google Emanuel Feuermann. That was her brother. Leonard Bernstein was responsible for reviving interest in his work. I never figured that out. What do you do for Huxley? Try shredded paper. Poor little thing shouldn't have to sweep snow with his tummy.

lovely.