The sky fell.

All the way down to 4,000 feet.

That's how it feels around here after the first official winter storm. Low gray clouds, and bright white snow plastering the mountains almost down to the edge of the valley floor. It's absolutely beautiful.

Yesterday was cold and rainy. I cooked ham and bean soup and made pumpkin chocolate chip cookies. My son and I played video games and didn't feel guilty. I had the fireplace going. The dog got the hambone once it cooled and took it out into the backyard. Half an hour later, she came back inside soaking wet and hopped up onto her corner of the couch, but I didn't get mad. And I only had one near-death experience.

Last night, I was on my way to a fundraising thing for Conor's school at the mall. Mom was in the car with me. The roads were - surprise - wet. Just before my freeway exit, I saw a huge swath of standing water and took my foot off the gas. The Subaru hit the puddle, threatened to slide, and satisfyingly gripped the road. I accelerated, and looked into my rear view mirror just in time to see something unexpected: tail lights then headlights then tail lights. Near as I could tell, a Four Runner in the fast lane hit the same water going much quicker than I did. He spun out, all the way across four lanes of traffic, coming within three feet of literally wiping my ass off the road.

Then I did what I usually do in near-miss situations where I've emerged alive: I started laughing.

This is why my mother thinks I'm nuts.

Anyway, my mom and I are alive, and the sky is lower than normal, and much more lovely. Happy Monday.