If I was dreaming of a white Christmas, without a doubt my dreams have come true. 

I ran a few errands this morning, but by noon the snow was falling at a pretty good rate and I was glad to spend the rest of the day inside – cozy and snug.  By 2pm the snow had accumulated enough that I had to clear the back porch.  (I learned a few years ago that if your back door opens out, you better clear the porch every once in a while during heavy snow storms or be prepared to stay inside until spring.)  By 4pm, I was clearing the porch on an hourly basis.

I took a break from blizzard-watching long enought to see the Patriots cream Arizona 47-7, but at 6pm I turned on the local news where they said we were just about to enter a period of heavy snowfall.  “About to enter…?”  Cripes.  I’m not sure what they considered the last eight hours of snow, but it looked pretty darned heavy to me.

I have to think that this amount of snow in such a short period is a bit much.  I mean, this is the type of snowstorm that caused Laura Ingalls to tie a rope around herself so she wouldn’t get lost between the house and the barn.  When I asked for a white Christmas, I didn’t mean a “white-out” Christmas.