Partridgeberry of Sleet

Not quite as accomplished a day, but I don't care. It was mostly enjoyable. More snow had fallen overnight, so I went outside again to shovel. It may have risen into the low double digits today. It's only 9 degrees right now. You could feel the bite outside. When I first got up, I even went so far as the use the snow shovel, which I had luckily left next to the front door, to drag the Sunday paper within my reach, instead of stepping out barefoot into the snow to get it, as I would normally have done. I had shoveled out the plow ridge at the bottom of the driveway when Irish showed up with his youngest daughter, Daisy. I confess she is my favorite of the three girls. They were clearing off everyone's sidewalk, and they did the rest of my driveway in a trice. I have an impressive snow mountain at the end of the driveway now, and Daisy climbed up it and used the compressed snow chunks left by the city plow to build a citadel, watchtower, or barricade at the top. From this vantage point, she tried to pelt Irish and me with snowballs. After she missed me several times, I moved in closer so she could score a hit or two. I threw snowballs back at her, but attempted a near miss so she could enjoy being showered with snow, but not actually smacked. It was great fun. Half the joy of a snowy day is hearing the children out enjoying it.

I tried unsuccessfully to find an old story I wanted to look at. Sigh. A writer should have a better filing system. In the meantime I found a hard copy of a different old story and looked at that instead. Not very productive, but I enjoyed it. While doing so, I enjoyed warming up in front of a nice fire in the fireplace. Then I had a Zoom with Moonmoth and the Nonesuch. And then, out of consideration for the Sparrowhawk's long-standing man-crush on Tom Brady, we watched the Superbowl. I didn't attempt any spectacular treats. He ate leftover pizza and I had some soup and toast, and then we both ate a few chips.