In Our Wake: To Wash My Hands, My Face, and Hair with Snow

**Warning: Picture Overload

It's time for some weekly gems (I really need to keep a better schedule on this) but first, a tribute to snow.
I love snow. Even as a college kid trekking all over campus I didn't get sick of snow. (Okay, maybe once, but it had to be one of those days.) And lately we have had some good times with the gleaming stuff.

My good friend prepping for a ride on a pizza pan.
I'm telling you, Pam works.

First, some late night sledding.

We live across the street from a hill. One of the most popular sledding hills, I would say, since a person of any age can be found sliding, slipping, or rolling down it at any hour--which we prove.

And I must apologize for the beyond horrible quality of the pictures.
What can a girl sledding at 10:00 p.m. do.

I included this fuzzy thing merely to point out that the white blur is a laundry basket.

Next, I always want to live on the Bountiful benches on my drive up to them. Then I change my mind on the way down. But they're beautiful, aren't they?

Lastly, I had a brief relationship with the sublime a few weekends ago while at my parents'. It was late and I was alone outside to take in the beauty of fresh snow. So I snapped some pictures which mean more to me than they will to anyone else.