a soggy, mushy mess. This was the view outside my back door this morning. It is pasted together like this because I took three shots from the door, not wanting to wade through six inches of the stuff in my slippers. I have a 'stitch' function in my photograph editing suite, but it only works if the shots you want to meld are lined up fairly well horizontally. Anyway, there it is and that is my back yard. The grass in summer gets cut with a riding mower! The piece that shows way in the back is actually quite large; it's the angle that makes it look like a narrow strip. We have about the same amount of space to the left side, and on the right the laneway extends over to all the outbuildings.
It is a truth universally to be acknowledged that all Canadians like to grouse about the weather. This lovely white blanket was over six inches deep. We live at the end of a gravel road, which, because the township has not deigned to grade yet this spring, is a minefield of potholes. I think the champion hole is probably a yard wide and two feet deep. (Note that I am an unreconstructed, lamebrained Canadian who has never mastered metric linear measurements.) Now, cover this with six inches of slush so that the location of the potholes can only be guessed at. Imagine yourself picking your way along at 2 mph when you look up and see the school bus bearing down on you. Not fun. No, precious, no!
Anyway, it certainly was pretty before I had to go and drive in it. Even if admiring it is an unCanadian thing to do.