When It Snows, It Freakin' Pours

I'm from California.
In California, there is no snow.

There is no ice.
(Unless it's in the lemon-aid you're sipping at the beach)
There are no shovels.
There are no blizzard advisories.
There is only sun.
Beautiful, warm, delicious sun.

Oh, California.

And by the way, (for all my California peeps who have not had the pleasure of experiencing the Winter Wonderland that is Iowa)
that white crap is cold.
My toes are cold.
My fingers are cold.
My eyes are cold.
My throat is cold.
My ears are cold.
My butt is cold.
There are places on my body that I didn't know existed.
And they are cold.
And so, with the first Snow Day of the year, we spent a quiet, cold, boring, cold day at home. (Did I mention I'm cold?)
And when we could stand the boredom no more...
I worked on Christmas cards...
(Don't you wish you could see the whole thing? You do. You really do.)

and made snowflakes.
Because 4 feet of snow just isn't enough.



P.S. I'm cold.