"Do you think a snow blower could handle this stuff? It's so icy and heavy," said my Dad. He leaned on his shovel.

"Whatcha talkin about? You don't need a snow blower!" I flexed for him. "You have me!"

"You won't always be here." He looked a little wistful. "And I didn't know you were up for digging us out."

"I am Margaret, version 2.0." I threw my head back and cackled. He laughed, too.

He was thrilled today, when I sauntered into his bedroom and announced that I'd like to go cross country skiing (I need boots - I swear the last time I went with him wasn't this long ago, but it must have been).

At the least, I shall go sledding even if it means I have to mar the beautiful snow on our drumlin.

2003-01-04, snow

before / after

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