Over the weekend, we woke up to our first snowfall of the season. It's never wise to count on a chance of snow in Seattle, though I grew up fluent in all the superstitions that would supposedly guarantee a snow day, such as performing "snow dances" (see Yahoo! answers for an illustrative example or several), praying to "snow gods," and wearing my pajamas inside-out and backwards. Our winter wonderland was modest -- a blanket just an inch or two thick -- but that didn't stop me from staying outside until my fingers froze while Eva, clad in plaid and boots, romped/nosedived through every corner of the park. The rest of the weekend was spent staying cozy by the fire, watching Manhattan Murder Mystery and feasting on Thanksgiving leftovers and homemade almond cake. Happy first of December!