Suzy Snowflake's older, uglier cousin

All weekend we were told/promised/warned that at long last we would get our first snow of the year. Make it through the deluge of Friday and Saturday and we'd have more white stuff than the Escopito cartel in Bogota. I talked to Andy yesterday afternoon and he not-exactly-excitedly but with a slight lilt in his voice described the conditions in PTC: winter wonderland. He even broke out the camcorder that's been collecting dust since the England trip to record a few moments for the still unnamed Baby Ziegler. (Horatio is still in the running, yay!) A silly idea on the surface perhaps, but at the rate we get snows here BZ will probably vote for his first U.S. President before he builds a snowman in his yard. Of course, that's more to do with Andy's reticence to frolic outdoors than a lack of snow. I digress.

Before Andy the auteur became wholly mesmerized by the snow, he assured me that the system (or snow for the non-weather geeks) was headed right for us and we'd be blanketed in mere hours. Rebel that I am, living the life on the edge that I do, I decided against a quick run for the customary bread and milk. With my M & M's and bottled water I should be able to hold out for an hour or two. If trapped for longer than a couple of hours, I can always use my survival skills learned from Man vs. Wild. My bloodlust is getting antsy and my Swiss Army knife has been dormant for far too long.

In the meantime, Cybil's mother called about the guest list for the upcoming BZ shower she and an assortment of hens are throwing. (Er, apologies, the EPJ corrected me that one doesn't "throw" a shower; it is held. I quickly informed the EPJ that I didn't give a care, er, I mean, a shit.) But since Andy and Millicent do not live here and I am not invited nor particularly interested in such matters (but am nonetheless a renaissance man), it makes perfect sense that the duties of creating a guest list would fall upon me. Though the final list was somewhat longer than the 5 or so Andy figured, it's somewhat less than every female that's ever come in contact with us. Nevertheless, if you're reading this and you fail to receive a request for a gift please know that we're very disappointed in you. Shame.

So in the midst of our convo, I looked out and noticed it was snowing. Finally. Local weathermen went into storm mode and promised 5-6". Suddenly the idea of Monday at the office seemed a little less likely. I could hardly wait to write my name in the snow. A few minutes later I looked out again and there was nothing but the cold silence of the first day of March. No worries, sayeth Marisol, it's supposed to get much worse after midnight. So much so that all the local schools, including Buster's, have already been closed. Certainly the local school systems wouldn't waste a snow day on a mere threat. As luck would have it, the local authorities, Andy, Marisol and everybody else who warned me of my impending snowboundness was right. Let's go make snow angels.

The view from my desk. Apparently we got the special invisible snow.

I was briefly excited to find something white on the ground. Turned out to be a cigarette butt.