It’s Christmas Eve morning, and I’m getting some last few baking things done. The DJ comes on the radio and says, “Thank goodness, we missed all the terrible weather forecast for today.” I look outside where it’s dark and threatening. On her next break she says, “I just had a call from Boring and it’s snowing there. And in Gresham, there is freezing rain.” And then every break after that she had more bad news about the weather.
What we got at the Orange Door: ice pellets and freezing rain-type stuff. It was never really snow, just a pain to drive in. But the fact I drove in it (twice: on Christmas Eve and Christmas Day) means it wasn’t too terrible. By Boxing Day it had faded to an icy sheen, captured here.
Under those tarps are piles of sand leftover from the side yard, which will be used for the back yard.