When it got cold

by chuckofish

Well, we are firmly encased under a blanket of snow. And it is quiet–so quiet–in my neighborhood. No cars, practically no one walking by. No leaf blowers. Very nice.

I suppose I should bundle up and go outside, “But for now I am a willing prisoner in this house,  a sympathizer with the anarchic cause of snow.”   (I really like this poem by Billy Collins about snow.)

And here’s an old song which uses the phrase “We bundled up”.

Our driveway is going to be plowed on Wednesday, so until then, we are stuck at home. I can dig it. Hang in there and I will too.