Jenna loved the snow. When she'd been spotlighted in her kindergarten class, I mentioned that winter was her favorite season. It was at the time, but I don't know if it still is. Like me, she also likes the fall. She does love the snow, but she also became sick of it one year as there were tons of it dumped down on us; it was so high and so long that we were glad when it finally came to an end.
Each time it snows in Oregon (which is NOT often in the area where we live) she has gotten more excited - which is kind of funny, because I think with each snowfall we've received, the amount that sticks has been more pathetic than the last (which is fine by me; enough so it's pretty, but not so much that I have to drive in it)
When we lived in Salt Lake, Roland would point out whatever mountain we were driving towards and ask Jenna, "What's the name of that mountain?" or "What is that mountain called?" It became a game for them. She'd answer: "Candy Mountain" "Carmel Mountain" "Beautiful Mountain and So Forth"
Yesterday it snowed. Flurried off and on. Moments of sunshine. The snow hadn't stuck until this morning. I expect it will be gone by this afternoon - except in the hills above us. For the first time since we've been in Oregon, Roland pointed to the hill next to the towers and asked, "Jenna, what's the name of the mountain."
"I don't know."
"I call it Tower Hill," I volunteered.
"What's the name of the one next to it?"
|It appears that Dwight has more snow than Towers. LOL|