Stop...

 It's convenient when a big storm hits on a Saturday. Neither of us had to cancel work, and since the forecasters gave us plenty of notice, Chris went to the grocery store and transfer station on Friday, so there were no pressing chores to be done today. I fed and watered the animals early. The snow was falling so fast that it filled my footprints almost as soon as I left them. This was the kind of storm that insisted any plans one had made had to stop. After all the animals had a delivery of food, treats, and warm water, we had the entire day to hole up and watch the snow fall down. 

..

And fall it did. The picnic table sports a foot or so of snow. The chickens and goats all stayed firmly in their houses. We followed suit. I repeatedly filled the wild bird feeders, and they swooped in to empty them in record time. The snow did not stop. 

Plows and sand trucks rumbled by all day, creating impressive banks. 

At dusk, the dogs and I went back out to play and check the livestock. There was dancing and racing on the dog's part. I shoveled a bit to get to the garage, coops, and goats. They were happy to see me, tucking into their fresh hay with gusto. 

On the way back in, I noticed the lawn chairs. 

Some earlier storm had upended them. Any regulation adults would have stored them carefully at the end of the season, but that is not how we roll. Somewhere in the recesses of our minds, I suspect that we think if we leave our beloved chairs out, maybe the happy sitting outside season will linger. But here they are, tucked under a deep, cold white blanket despite our hopes. And here we are, inside looking out. Full stop. It was that kind of storm. 

Yet the calendar does not know about the storm. Tomorrow will be one day closer to spring.