To the Hills

A white Christmas in Edison it is not, so we headed for the hills.  G scoured the woods for any sign of Santa's reindeer and perfected snow ball sculpting. 

Marguerite reminded us frequently that she was cold.

Daddy showed off some sweet moves,

 and helped out when snow filled up boots.

We ended our adventure on top of Blanchard Mountain at the Samish Lookout, the spot where we got married. 

Something about the random person emerging from the woods and me asking them to take our picture made it impossible for either girl to look up.  Understandable.

Off I go to do Santa's heavy lifting.