Snow?

I'm feeling rather cheated right about now.

We were promised snow this weekend. For days, the weathermen cautiously built up the idea that Birmingham - yes, this Birmingham - would receive up to four inches of the white stuff. We haven't had a really decent snow since 1993, the infamous "Storm of the Century" that dumped a whole foot in places and paralyzed the city for a week, and we still have a Flexible Flyer in the garage that has yet to go for its maiden run, an impulse buy purchased in the hope that '93 would be repeated. To date, it has not, making northern transplants and southern kids who've never seen snow sad.

Anyway, we were gearing up for our four inches. Bread and milk were flying off the shelves. Firewood was purchased by the truckload. Pipes were dripped. And then...

...and then, we got maybe a whopping inch. Insult to injury, the temperature warmed enough to melt the damned stuff, leaving us with brown grass and sporadic patches of roadside ice. All the planning (and cancellation) came to nought, and the Great Blizzard of 2008 turned out to be a great big bust in Birmingham.

Still, Callie saw her first snow, and was predictably confused. She didn't like to pick up her snow-covered football, heaven only knows why. Border collies.