Wilma is fed up with seeing all the lovely photos that our friends in other parts of Europe have been posting showing the wonderful snow they have. Admittedly the person who posted a picture of their soft top car, with a hole in the roof, that had filled with snow, may not have been quite so pleased, but no matter. Anyway, everyday Wilma goes to the window and looks out and then when she comes back she tells me in a very sad voice that we still don’t have snow. To be fair our weather has been far too warm this year and we’ve hardly had any frost either. Now however we do have some snow forecast. Wilma has progressed from reporting on the weather daily to looking out at least hourly and being disappointed that nothing is happening yet. I’ve told her when it does snow she needs to be ready to go outside immediately in case she misses it. I think to have any real chance she would have to look at moving, but I’m guessing that’s not going to happen. There was a year, several years ago now when we did get a lot and it stayed a long time. I’m not even sure if that was before Aristotle was born, but it doesn’t happen often.
Even I prefer snow to the rain. I don’t mind going out in the snow. I think it’s one of those things built into our genes. It brings out the puppy in all of us. I guess it helps that our Mistress likes it too. She’s said if we get enough this year she will try to help Wilma build a snow-dog. Last time she tried that it bore very little resemblance, but I didn’t like to mention it.
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