I think the Bumble just walked by the campus center...

It's quite possible that I have moved to Michigan and no one told me.  Feet of snow is one thing; feet of snow multiple times within the past 5 or 6 weeks is quite another.  I do hope this isn't a repeating quality of winter that Massachusetts decides to be keen on. 

Don't get me wrong. I love winter.  I really love snow.  But this is a little insane. 

Maybe later I'll play in the snow... Some of my fondest memories as a child were being kicked out of the apartment by my mother to go play outside and build snow-people with my sisters.  The process basically went like this:
1. place grocery bags around double-socked feet, then tie a knot around the ankle.
2. squeeze on snow boots over largely massed feet.
3. force your booted feet into the snow pants, hoping they'll come out the other side without pushing your corduroys up past your knees and you won't have to struggle to reach down the snow pant legs to get your corduroys back to ankle level.
4. clip the overalls on the snow pants, adjust the straps, and make sure you can walk before proceeding.  If your socks were too thick, you may have to start over.
5. search desperately through the mystery bucket of winter accessories and find matching gloves, then put them on.  Make sure they're thick enough, or Mom will make you look again.
6. grab any scarf and hat you can find in said mystery bucket; Mom doesn't care so much about the quality.
7. once accessorized, ask Mom to help you put your coat on.  You won't be able to do this part on your own, as you transform into the State-Puff Marshmallow Man.
8. don't fall down the stairs on your way to the door, then GO FOR IT!!

God, I miss those days.  After working so hard to make a crappy snowman with lumps all over his body and unrecognizable raisins for eyes, (I mean who actually has coal??) you plop down on your back, make a snow angel, and just lie there looking up at the sky hoping Mom'll let you back inside soon because you used up enough energy to quit driving her nuts and she'll give you hot chocolate (but of course she'll jip you on the chocolate so you'll continue to stop being a pill...
   
           ...then you think, "I wonder if Mom'll get really mad if I go sledding off the garage roof again?"