Sunday through Tuesday of this week were snow days. If you're somewhere in the Idaho region, like we used to be, this means nothing to you. For you, snow days are the days you scrape the vaguely windshield-shaped cube of ice off the front of your car, and drive to work regardless of whether or not you've seen a snowplow that morning. Snow days in Virginia, however! What a treat. Your alarm wakes you up, you look out your window to a beautiful white sheet of fallen snow, you turn on the news and just as you'd suspected, your entire day has been cancelled. Early Tuesday morning, we woke up exactly this way. While my boys were busy doing whatever they do together in the other room first thing in the morning, I went to my closet and pulled on my snow boots, tucked my hair under my hat, buttoned my coat and yelled to Tyson on my way out the door that I'd be right back, I was going on a walk. "Hey and tell Everett to make us some pancakes while I'm gone!" I said for good measure. There was not a soul in sight out those front doors. It was just me and the blanketed quiet. The thick trees, barely green under the weight of last night's collection, scraped the ground and created a canopy effect over the walkway. Looking up, the skeletal trees looked soft now, like one large intricate snowflake. I mean, it was gorgeous. Heavenly. Cleaner and crisper. Like the air you were breathing in that very second was somehow filling your lungs more efficiently than the air that you were breathing last night. I saw our neighbor Frances down the road, leaving her house for a walk with her dog, Daisy. We just waved, not wanting to break the silence I think. I snapped a few pictures in the middle of the road because I don't want to forget what our street looks like when it's like this, and then I walked back home. It's been three days straight of chicken noodle soup and rolls. With Salsa and chips and Rolo cookies thrown in there somewhere too. We also took Everett sledding for the first time! He was less than thrilled with the experience. We bundled him up like Randy and took him down the shallow hill in our friend's backyard, but the poor guy got a little of the sled spray in his face on the way down. All the snow angels, snowballs, anything besides poking your finger in the stuff, etc, are getting put on hold for the mighty year of the three-year-old I think. Anyway, all hail these snow days! They're dang good.