Let it Snow, Let it Snow, Let it Snow

Okay, it can stop now.

We got hit by a winter storm this weekend, like much of the rest of the eastern half of the country. not too bad, really, by Oneonta standards: about 11 inches of snow, but most of it fell overnight.

Believe it or not, there was a patio and a driveway under all that. Sometimes I shovel it myself, but it is a long driveway (this is just the back bit, not the part that runs from here down to the road, next to the house), but thankfully I have a Knight in Shining Truck for the big dumps. (I have to pay him, of course, but it's worth it!)

The storm didn't really bother me, other than the fact that I had to spend a lot of time on the phone from Friday night through Sunday morning, rearranging the schedule at The Artisans' Guild to get local folks to cover from those who come from further away, or live on unplowed back roads.

I spend part of the weekend finishing the last of the wrapping, packing of packages, and other gift-giving chores, and on Saturday before the storm hit my friend Ellen came over to watch (or rewatch in my case) the Doctor Who special, and help me put up my few decorations for the Yule season.

I also did some really helpful brainstorming with writing partner Lisa for the Baba Yaga prequel novella I have to start writing yesterday. And of course, there was a certain amount of this. (Those are my legs, underneath book, cat, and fuzzy blankie.)

I usually am so burned out in December, I indulge in rereading a favorite author, instead of trying to digest something new. This season, it is Trisha Ashley, a British romantic comedy author. I have been hoarding her new one, but I think it's up next, since I'm finishing off the last of the older books I own. Samhain doesn't seem to care one way or the other. As far as she's concerned, "Let it snow, let it snow, let it snow."