How About That Snow

I open the door to go to work this morning to find giant fluffy flakes of snow falling to join the fifteen twenty-three or so centimeters that was already on the ground. The air temperature was about one, so it was going to be heavy, wet and slippery. And there was a lot of it.

I closed my eyes, clicked my heels together and said "There's no place like Varadero. There's no place like Varadero."

It didn't work.