It’s now 70 degrees as I look back through these pictures I took just days ago. We were really hoping to wake up to a layer of snow, but the ice that clung to the trees was a pretty enough substitute. We layered up, put on our insufficient coats and boots, and wrapped our heads, necks, and hands in some protective wear we had to dig out of the closet. Chuck spent some time trying to chip the ice off the lid of a bucket, and then we went down to explore to see what all had frozen. The sand felt frozen, some mud from our rain soup was frozen, the top of the water in the wheelbarrow was frozen, but the creek was not frozen. It was pretty magical seeing our familiar world crystalized. The girls didn’t last too long in the cold, but they outlasted our dog Atlas who was born in Chicago but has apparently forgotten what it feels like to be cold.