Let it Snow! (and other dangerous tales)

So, remember the long and winded letter I wrote to Richard the Oregon rain god? Well, it worked! --just not in the way I hoped, but that's okay! Because it SNOWED! Correction, it's SNOWING.

This morning I went for a walk up our hill in the snow, my snow hat on, my hoodie over my hat, and my coat hood tied tightly around my head, making me look like a peanut. But that didn't matter, because the snow was so beautiful. As I got higher and higher up the mountain, and the trees got thicker and thicker, I found myself alone, the big snowflakes muting the sounds of the busy freeway below, and making me feel more isolated than a fat man on a nude beach. As I was turning a corner, my breath suddenly caught, and I stopped cold in my tracks. WOLVES. Two large animals appeared through the haze of snow, coming towards me, and all I could think of was that I was alone and about to eaten alive by two large-fanged, wild dogs. The lack of breath smoke coming out of my mouth told me I still wasn't breathing. When I blinked a flake of snow off my eyelash and strained me eyes to see through the blizzard conditions, I realized, much my relief, that they were not, in fact, wolves, but only giant deer. But then stories of wild deer attacks began running through my head, and I wasn't any more comforted than when I thought they were wolves. I stared at the biggest deer. It stared back at me. I crept closer. It took a step back. I wanted a picture. And he/she wasn't about to let me. As soon as I whipped out the camera on my phone, it took off for the hills, leaving dirty hooveprints in the snow. But NOT before I snapped it's portrait. If you look closely, you will notice the dark mass in the back. Note: That is a deer, not a wolf.

I'm not gonna lie. That was a close encounter with an untamed beast. But I survived to tell about it. I also survived the near death fall on my butt as the snow turned the asphalt into a impromptu skating rink. And I survived the near two-car pileup, almost caused by yours truly who's butt was apparently so big that two cars could not pass me at the same time. But whatever. I'm working on it, OKAY? And much to my chagrin, the 80 year old man was nowhere to be seen. I am assuming he was sitting by the fire in his old, beat up slippers, taking his coat off because it "was getting too hot."

So Richard, thanks for letting up on us. I know you can't control Bob, the snow god. But you at least did your part. If the snow doesn't let up by Sunday, when I have to fly back to school, he will be getting a letter, as well. Until then, let it snow, let it snow, let it snow...