Thunder-snow

Our work week has progressed normally, despite the crippling snow storm. Wednesday was gross and I was pelted with ice between the trolley and home. As the ice pelts turned fluffy and the thunder-snow boomed, I practiced a raucous and difficult waltz on my accordion. During a particularly tricky passage I tapped my foot furiously and was determined to master the odd rhythm. I stomped and hummed, quickly trilled and the sky boomed. Then my chair broke and I crashed to the ground, my only thought the safety of the accordion. Ian asked from the other room, "Are you okay?" and I laughed and laughed. I asked him, "What did it sound like?" "Like crick, WHOMP." 
I told Gma this story on the phone tonight, about how I had to land accordingly as to not damage the instrument. She said, "You mean, accordionly?" It runs in the family.

Afterwards Jenny and I went into our back alley to inspect the snow. She romped and sneezed and caught snowballs in her mouth. I can be seen below in my natural snow-state, with a yard stick and a smile. Ian is hiding in the next one, keeping as much Alabaman inside as possible.