White Easter

I woke up Easter morning to discover that it was a White Easter in Anchorage, Alaska.

Overnight, it snowed about 4 inches. Then it continued to snow all Easter long. It is, in fact, still snowing.

It's a beautiful snowfall. It is the kind of snow that is perfect for building playful things - like snowmen and snowballs. Light and sugar-like. And I over-baked two trays of Hot Cross Buns because I apparently was too slow to persuade Puck to stop playing in the beautifully playful snow.

There is scientific proof that a good snowful can muffle sound. Today I theorize that it can also distort the perception of time. Because when I put the hot cross buns in the oven on Easter morning, I was thinking that I had 10 minutes to skip outside and throw snowballs for Puck. We played some chase. We tossed a frisbee. And to be safe, I played it short - deciding to check on the buns after what felt like a mere 5 minutes. It turned out to be 20.

So the buns were a little burnt.

Far worse things can happen.

A bunch of the other neighbors were outside too. Granted, this time they were bundled up. But they were outside - skiing their dogs around the block.