They say it rarely snows in Baton Rouge; maybe once a decade.
This morning I woke up, looked out the window, and was shocked to see it snowing. It wasn’’t a light flurry kind of snow, but big fat snowflakes that seemed to be taunting me with their devilish smirks and irregular shapes.
I hate the cold. I hate the snow.
Laugh at me all you want, but if you ever lived in New Hampshire or Massachusetts (which I have) where the wind chill factor can fall thirty degrees below zero, and the snow stands a few feet tall, you wouldn’t be laughing.
How could Mother Nature do this to me?
One of the people in the production office joyously ran outside and created a snowman. I reluctantly ventured outside, bundled up in layers of clothing, to take this photo.
Yeah, it’s a cute snowman, but I cannot wait for it to melt.
This morning I woke up, looked out the window, and was shocked to see it snowing. It wasn’’t a light flurry kind of snow, but big fat snowflakes that seemed to be taunting me with their devilish smirks and irregular shapes.
I hate the cold. I hate the snow.
Laugh at me all you want, but if you ever lived in New Hampshire or Massachusetts (which I have) where the wind chill factor can fall thirty degrees below zero, and the snow stands a few feet tall, you wouldn’t be laughing.
How could Mother Nature do this to me?
One of the people in the production office joyously ran outside and created a snowman. I reluctantly ventured outside, bundled up in layers of clothing, to take this photo.
Yeah, it’s a cute snowman, but I cannot wait for it to melt.
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