It snowed here New Year's Day. Not that we saw any of it; it was gone by the time the kids and I got up and we had to rely on Chas for the info. But Chas said there was half an inch on his car that had to be removed before he drove off in the predawn darkness.
Smedley was furious that she missed it. So, after the laundry was tackled and the kitchen was cleaned for the third time and rooms were tidied, the girls and I set off with Grandma (my mom) in search of snow.
Driving west to the Coast Range foothills doesn't take long, and we rose with the road up out of the valley.
Smedley took this one with her new camera. If it were a clear day you could see all the way across the valley, past Orland and our ranch to the foothills of the Sierra-Cascades on the east side. But it was threatening to rain or snow -- the temperature hovered between 36 and 39 degrees, startlingly cold for the middle of the day in our flat California valley -- and we could see only cows and deer grazing. Which is okay.
Once we passed Black Butte Lake we began to see snow beside the road. These foothills have always been magical to me, in any weather.
There isn't any place to park along Newville Road so we headed for our favorite old cemetery. Times must have changed since we were last here, and not only was there no place to park there either, but the place was locked up.
So we parked in someone's driveway and played in the snow, such as it was.
The girls have never played in snow. I know! They've touched it only once before, in fact.
After making and throwing a few snowballs they settled in to the only activity possible, since snow angels were completely out of the question: making a snowman.
This is the world's tiniest snowman. Too small for the cookie we tried to feed him, apparently. I'm guessing whoever lives up that driveway was a little bit puzzled by him.
No snow this morning. There's always next year.