I am glad that the snow isn't falling thick and fast. Picturesque it can be, but awkward. I've seen my share, quite enough not to require enforced re-acquaintance. However, I won't complain about a dusting.
Six years ago snow fell on my neighbour's yard and horse - rather unusually left out to eat hay - continuing until only the road was fit only for sleigh traffic. A couple of days later the temperature hit -20C (-4F).
Today I heard a little news about my former home of eight years. The economy is a mess: a 20 billion Euro bail-out is required. Sales tax has been raised to 24% and millions of workers have had their salaries cut by a quarter. Working people survive on as little as $200 a month. Corruption and poverty burgeon. A quarter of the forest has been clear-felled as a cash crop. Government is on the verge of collapse. I shudder at the prospect of running a tourist business under such conditions. Thank goodness D and I got out whilst we could.
Meanwhile my novel gained over a thousand words tonight. Writing is going well. A nice safe fantasy strand to life is proving quite a satisfaction. I am grateful for this.