Traffic on a snowy Sunday: several pickup trucks and sedans, one super-fat-tired bicycle and four cross-country skiers.
In other news, I took my first spill on a snowy sidewalk. My Michelin-man-esque outfit (puffy down coat, Sorel Nanook boots and army surplus wool pants) eased me into a nice soft landing. Neighbors likely thought I’d suddenly been inspired to make a snow angel under their tree.
Leo continued to prance and dance in the falling flakes, noticing nothing. Note to self: You do not own a rescue dog.