I stole the name from Powell's, but it really was like a snowpocalypse, except not catastrophic in any way. Every time my parents leave the state lately a weather event occurs; when they went to Arizona a few months ago we had a week of monsoons, now they head off to Rwanda only to miss five consecutive days of snow, three of which stuck leaving 8+ inches outside our house.
We're a pretty home-bound family as it is, so our routine wasn't impacted much: I worked, the kids played, Shaggy braved the snow with them.
On the weekend we all ventured out, had a snowball fight with the neighbors, built a snowman just as the freezing rain began. We had a fire and ate lasagna.
Lucy was happy licking icicles and painting snowballs; Oscar got cold more easily but was happy as long as he was sitting on a tricycle, unmoving in the middle of it all. A lot of snow was stomped and eaten.
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