I don’t get it. It’s not dry, but it’s not snow.
What’s going on here?
I checked my calendar.
It is December 23rd… winter.
I checked my location.
I’m in Montana… north.
Missy drug me out to pass Christmas cookie plates around to the neighbors. We didn’t wear parkas, we wore slickers.
What’s going on here?
I will admit that the rain on top of ice is plenty slick. That sensation of absolutely no traction underfoot is definitely not Coastal Northern California.
