Question: What stays on your nose and eyelashes?

And individually, I'd say they could be one of my favourite things, but when they join forces and drop from the sky in clusters, they are relegated to one of my least favourite things. Let me explain. Not only is it January in Canada, which is a dark and dreary post-holiday time of year, there's this.

1. Novel Woman has the flu. Novel Woman, dutifully but sceptically, was coerced into getting got her flu shot for the first time last fall. Novel Woman now has the flu. Novel Woman says you do the math.

2. Novel Woman currently sounds like she is a two-pack-a-day lifelong smoker. When the telemarketers call, they refer to Novel Woman as "sir".

3. Novel Woman is feverish, so much so that she's talking about herself in the third person.

So she's going to post some cool shots of snowflakes.

(I know it doesn't make sense. See #3 above.)

with permission from SnowCrystals.com

If you want to know more about snow crystals, and really, why wouldn't you, go visit the website where you'll learn exciting snow crystal facts like:

1. How to tell the difference between a stellar dendrite and a capped column. (Who knew?)
2. How to grow designer snowflakes. (Because the everyday ones are so ho hum.)
3. Everything you ever wanted to know about snowflake physics. (Everything? How about how the snowflakes know exactly which morning I'll need to use the car and decide that's when they'll drop from the sky in huge numbers. Evil and psychic? You tell me.)
4. And my favourite - myths and nonsense. (See #3 above. Not a myth, nor nonsense.)

So maybe I'll go out and photograph a snowflake or two. When in Rome, as they say, or in this case, the Great White North, you might as well use what is right on your doorstep. And all over the driveway. And my car.

Off in search of medication...

Addendum: Youngest just sent an email from Uni. She said this:

THE SNOW HERE IS ACTUALLY INSANE.

That's maritime weather for you, this morning was clear, sunny, and as of 2 pm it's been like GOLFBALL sized snow clumps coming down. The side walk to my house is up to my knees, and everything, the homes, the wires, the branches, the streets are COATED in thick layers of poof.

"Thick layers of poof." HAHAHAHAAAA!! (Sorry. That's the fever talking.)