My family, on both sides, has been in Texas since it was it's own Republic. This makes me something official called a Daughter of the Republic, for which I got no college scholarship or bumper-sticker. Bummer.
Anyhow, with all this pure Texan blood running through my veins, you'd think I'd at least be acclimated to the heat. Wrong; bleh! I dream of winter all year long. We've hit official summer temps here, which means consistently in the high 90s to 100s. Oven-like cars, crunchy brown grass, and beads of perspiration dripping down your back. The heat feels oppressive.
Central Texas does generally gets one standard freak snowstorm each year, usually in January or February. This is close enough to Christmas (which was probably 70 degrees-ish) for Texas to remind you just who is boss.
|Selah is at first not amused, but then she comes around...|
I relish each moment of snow on the ground; I drag my brand-new baby out in the cold. I wake up early, I stop through my yard, write messages on car windows, and take pictures of it all. (I think I have pictures of every time it has snowed in the last 10 years). I am no better than a giddy child. My husband, who was born in Alaska, does not share my amazement of this white stuff. He is not fond of 7am snowball fights..fyi.
|Our little blue bungalow blanketed in snow.|
This is just to remind myself that summer won't last forever. Thank you for participating in my RSAD (Reverse Seasonal Affective Disorder) therapy.