Textured rain

That's what a friend of mine calls snow.  She says it makes her feel better.

Yesterday it was 55 degrees.  Theo was out in the nude, getting some sun bathing in.  I rode with no thermal layers, no coat, just a long sleeved shirt and my regular breeches.  I didn't even have wool socks on.  The mares were rough housing in their field most of the morning.  The outdoor arena was one or two warm days away from being usable.  The Ritz was almost completely snow free, just too wet to ride on.  Horses were let out for some romping and blew off some steam.

This morning I woke up to this.

Damn it all!

I blame the Sprinkler Bandit.  She's the one that said we couldn't have just one winter storm this year.  Somehow, overnight, we went from less than an inch to a weather advisory and this mess.  I'm blaming it all on her.  Because I can.

This is the 10 day outlook:

Really?  Really?!  Our average high this time of year is 35*.  I'm also blaming this on Sprinkler Bandit, because I can.  I guess I'll be spending Valentine's huddled in front of my pellet stove, covered in blankets and cursing the arctic for sending it's air down to visit.  Not the most romantic evening imaginable.