The light dusting of snow and scattered flurries that was forecast for today turned out to be a blanket of white when I got up. I'd say there's at least half an inch on the ground, and it's still falling. I know that's not a lot, but it's still more than was expected. The falling snow is very light and fluffy, so I can barely see it while sitting in my office without my glasses on. I can just see movement against the dark windows of the office building across the street. I'm also starting to hear something hitting the skylight, so it might be turning into sleet. I'm now very glad I got groceries yesterday and have nowhere to go today.
I have already had part of my Betty Crocker moment. When I got up and saw the snow, I was inspired to cook breakfast instead of having my usual piece of toast. I'd just bought some fresh breakfast sausage, so I had sausage and grits. I'll be making an Italian sausage tomato sauce for dinner. (Can you tell they had sausage on sale at the grocery store? And it's the store that makes their own fresh sausage that's very lean and quite tasty.) I've considered making a batch of bagels today, since I'm out, but I don't know about that. It depends on how much writing I get done.
I'm nearing the approximate halfway point in the current book and had to stop yesterday when I realized I was at a pivotal scene but didn't know what else should happen other than the main plot point. It's a "set piece" type scene that provides some of the imagery and fun inherent in the premise in addition to providing a plot turning point. So, I had to stop and brainstorm, and I think I came up with some good ideas, so I'm ready to write when I get going today.
If I can stop staring out the window at the snow falling. It seems like it's really coming down now, but I can't quite tell how much is actually falling and how much is wind whipping around the stuff that's on the ground. There's something so hypnotic about falling snow.