I woke up this morning and I just knew. It was too quiet to be anything else.
During the night, six inches of snow blanketed Tours.
What’s a southern girl to do? I immediately piled on every piece of clothing I own and ran outside. The joy of crunching around in the snow lost its novelty after a few minutes, though, so I hurried inside and rationalized that drinking four cups of hot tea in a row is good for my health.
After a yummy lunch of vegetable soup and baked fish, Laurent, Martine, Simon, and I jumped into the car to go the nearby lake. They looked very official in their snowsuits; I had to make do with my layers but I was warm enough. At the lake, there were some nice hills that had turned into perfect sledding conditions overnight. Simon and Martine went down a few times, and then they finally convinced me to give it a try. Darn it if that little twerp didn’t give me the biggest push in the world. I’m sure my screams were heard for miles around.
It was fun once I was sure I hadn’t broken any bones, but I decided to leave the big slopes to the pros. I’m just a little too much of a baby. After two turns on the sled, I stuck to making snow angels. Much more peaceful.