This is probably the nicest snow we've had up here for Thanksgiving since we've started coming up. Just cold enough for it to stick around, and lots of it: maybe 8 inches by now. Yesterday afternoon it fell for several hours straight. It was the kind of snowfall you get when there is little wind--it's quiet and the snow is white against the gray clouds that dropped it and in the windless silence the flakes simply find their way to the ground, falling around tree trunks to land on spilled branches or to stack themselves on the railings where we place towels to dry in the summer.
C and I headed to Wildwood for a ski first thing and we were the first tracks out there. I speculated that we were the first people to ski the trail this season, and that's probably correct. The snow was a little sticky, and the going was tough having no groomed slots to slide in, but it was about the prettiest I've ever seen it out there. I loved blazing our own way through trees that were just heavy with the prior 24 hours of snow resting on their every needle. The snow stuck to our skis and made us stop once or twice to clean them and with about 2 miles to go, C broke one of her ski poles whacking it on her ski. The bamboo thing broke right in half. Who ever heard of a bamboo pole in 2005, anyway? That thing must have been 25 years old. She picked up a stick and broke it to the right length and used that the rest of the way.
June has been up and down up here. She loves her Papaw so much that she can get tunnel vision and be a little nasty to everyone else in the house. She can turn her tone of voice so quickly, I'm beginning to sense she's a manipulator. A sweet one, but she knows how to get what she wants.