Photo courtesy Flickr
Western Washington cheerfully loses its mind when it snows. Immigrants gripe about our inefficiency while local gardeners rejoice in a good slug-killing freeze. My grandparents lived half a block from the best sledding hill in their small town. When it snowed, they'd order a cord of wood dumped in the alley by their garage, then spend a day sipping "moose milk" (with bourbon) and watching the kids take wood for a bonfire.
A simple process, a huge payoff.
-30- More after the jump.