Well, the grey clouds held out for just a few more days, but this morning J pointed out that there was thick fog clouding the top of the mountain down the street. I looked out the window to see it leave behind the lightest dusting of snow.

As we settled in to work, something bunged up with our internet connection, so while J called tech support, I decided to do a Timmy's run to kill a little time.

While I was out, I decided to make a pit stop at the drug store to pick up some hair dye. I swear these mousy roots feel like they've grown halfway down my head and I don't think I can shell out for my hairdresser to fix me up any time soon. I doddled around, listening to the cheery holiday tunes as I held chunks of my hair up to the colour samples on a thousand different boxes... okay, maybe only 5 different boxes. I decided to go with 'soft black' to avoid the same mismatch problem I had the last time I tried colouring my roots myself. Dark brown is never quite dark enough, and even though black is probably a shade too dark, I'm hopeful that it might prevent that stripy margin down my part.

By the time I crossed the parking lot over to Tim Hortons, the snow was starting to come down more noticeably. Even thought I know I'll be cursing the snow come January 2nd, something about the first snowfall feels magical, and so I couldn't help but smile at everyone I passed -- A young mother with her child. An old man. Some young construction-looking guys. The lady serving me at Tim Hortons. The other lady who prepared my breakfast sandwich at the opposite end of the counter. I found that I even had a little skip to my step. Then by the time I left with our coffees and my sandwich, I was excited to see that the snow had grown even thicker.

Now, as I sit in the living room and look outside, it feels as if we're in a well-shaken snow globe. A lot of it is still melting by the time it reaches the ground, but it sure looks festive out. Of course, I think it's easier for me to get uplifted by the first presence of the white stuff... I don't have a driveway to shovel.