The best part about a large snow storm is the way the white, brilliant brightness magnifies the smallest bits of color, making them seem that much cheerier.
The look out my front door Saturday morning.
The look out my backdoor Saturday morning.
Of course, it could be those rose-colored glasses I’m wearing from being most likely, definitely, probably, sort of, for sure, the most happiest I’ve pretty much ever been:
Any woman that considers a Wire marathon, drinking whiskey and eating a stew a great way to spend your one-year anniversary is a keeper, boys. Mark it down. This is your measuring stick for all future relationships.
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