Snowball Fights!

(Well, that was embarrassing. Somehow I posted this before it was done, in all its half-written, unrevised glory. Ouch. Well, those of you who may have seen this...that's what a first draft looks like. Typos and all. I'm surprised you weren't blinded by it.)

Twelve Acre Wood really is very pretty. Especially with snow to cover all its imperfections.

This afternoon was pretty bright, which is unusual right around this time of year, so instead of being a hermit and reading in my room, I took myself out to the living room and read in there. It is terribly romantic to sit in a rocking chair in front of a fire and read an old book. (Dear Enemy by Jean Webster, in case you want to know.) I was feeling as sentimental as can be when I looked out the window, and lo and behold, the snow was falling gently to the ground oh so artistically.

I like to get outside at least once a day (though I tend to put it off until it's nearly dark and so cold that I catch pneumonia the instant I crack open the door). However, it looked so pleasant that I decided to go out right then. I put on my shawl, my cloak (yes I wear a cloak, I'm cool like that) a pair of leggings, mittens and a scarf. I pulled on two pairs of socks, stepped into my epic mud boots and ventured out into the cold and snow with my brother Pip at my side to explore the frozen wastes.

Pics of said frozen wastes:

I took the camera, 'cause why waste an opportunity, and snapped some pictures. I'm not sure if you can tell, but it was actually snowing while I took those pictures, and I was excited to try and capture that. Yeah, those poorly defined white blurs are snowflakes.

Also there were birds. Proof:

(This Picture is called "Spot the Gold Finch.")

There was a really gorgeous bird with a red breast (probably a robin, but I am no bird expert and shall ask Rego before irrevocably naming it as such) that I tried to capture, but I couldn't hold the camera still enough, and thus failed miserably at the attempt. Alas for poor Lissy.

After the pictures were taken I gave my brother his camera back and because it was still nice and semi-sunny out Pip and I played in the snow. I wrote out my name with my footprints, Pip showed me a frozen mud puddle to slide on, and we ended the outting with a good old fashioned snowball fight. (No pics, sadly. I didn't dare risk Kennedy's camera in that war zone.)

I am bad at snowball fights. My baby brother, who is ten year younger than I am, has far better hand eye coordination than I do. Do you know what he did? He caught my snowballs right out of the air and threw them back at me! The little diel! (That's not a typo, that's Scotch!) I couldn't win for losing. He'd throw his at me and then throw mine too! It was absolutely unfair. There should be rules against that.

And then my hands got cold and I went inside and made myself a mug of hot cocoa. It was fun. I need to play in the snow more often.

As a side note: My spell check doesn't know what snow is. It has auto corrected it to 'slide,' 'Sylvie,' 'site,' and 'snore' and several other non-snowy things besides. How bothersome.

Here's a picture of Twelve Acre Bridge in the snow.